Realisations
by mescaline
Summary: Ron Weasley didn't know which was worse: realising you were gay, or realising you were in love with your best friend. Harry/Ron slash. AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N. This is the first story I've ever uploaded to (and only the second fanfic I've ever written). It's Ron/Harry slash, so don't like, don't read. I'd very much like reviews, but I'm also really insecure about my writing, so please be gentle *bats eyelashes*.

English is not my native language and I do not have a beta (yet…) so there might be some grammar mistakes. Hopefully Microsoft Word's spelling check has taken care of all the spelling mistakes, though.

Disclaimer: All the lovely characters belong to JK Rowling, I'm just having some fun with them.

1.

Ron Weasley didn't know which was worse: realising he was gay, or realising he was in love with his best friend.

He had started suspecting that maybe girls didn't do the trick for him in his fifth year at Hogwarts. He had realised that more often than not his eyes started wandering when he was in the shower after Quidditch practice, and he quite liked what he saw.

At first it had freaked him out and he had tried to convince himself that it was just a phase; that it would pass with time if he just ignored it. It hadn't disappeared, though. Slowly he had come to terms with the fact that maybe he was attracted to boys as well as girls.

By that time he was still convinced he fancied girls too. He was in love with Hermione, wasn't he? And he'd had that fling with Lavender Brown. Never mind that he had tried his hardest to avoid her company towards the end of their so called relationship - last time he checked she still counted as a girl and he had snogged her brains out on several occasions (even though he had to distract himself with thoughts of Quidditch during, to keep his attention away from the fact that Lavender's tongue felt like a dead slug in his mouth. He also tried to ignore that he actually knew what having a slug in your mouth felt like, due to the slug-vomiting incident back in his second year at Hogwarts).

But then there was that faithful day, the final battle, and he and Hermione had kissed and he had felt nothing.

No, that's not entirely true. He had felt fear and sorrow and the dread of not knowing if he would even see her alive again, but there had been no fireworks, no dizziness, no tingling. And wasn't there kind of supposed to be, he had thought to himself.

When the battle was over and things slowly (oh so slowly) started go back to normal, he had thought about it some more. And the more he thought about it, the more it dawned on him: he really didn't fancy girls at all. In the midst of all the chaos and mourning and everyone trying to find their way back to some kind of normal life, the realisation that he, Ron Weasley, was gay didn't seem to be such a big deal. Hell, if his friends and family had faced the Dark Lord and lived, they could face him being gay and live through that as well.

So he had just told people, and no one had really cared. Sure, Hermione had started crying and calling him nasty words, but a week later she had asked him for forgiveness and said that she didn't mind him being gay, what she did mind was him not being in love with her. And Ron could understand that. He was kind of sad himself that he could not be in love with her, she was his best friend and she was bloody brilliant, but what's a gay bloke to do?

Harry had been surprised at first, but then he had just shrugged and said: "whatever floats your boat, mate" and that had been that. Fred and George had teased him mercilessly, as he knew they would, but it was alright, he knew that they didn't really mind either, they just couldn't pass such a golden opportunity to make jokes at his expense. His mother had mentioned something about grandchildren, but he had just simply reminded her of her other six children and she had settled for that. His dad had reacted with an: "I did not see that coming" and had not mentioned it since. So yeah, no one really cared that he had decided to switch teams, but what surprised him the most was that neither did he. In the grand scheme of it all, it just seemed unimportant.

It would all have been dandy if he had not started paying attention to how strange his body was reacting whenever Harry was around. Whenever Harry was expected to the Burrow (and he was there quite a lot these days) Ron would feel almost giddy with anticipation. And once Harry was there, the redhead felt happy and calm just by being near him, talking to him, playing a game of wizard's chess with him or practicing his quidditch skills with him in the Burrow's back yard.

There was nothing new about these feelings, really. Harry had always made him happy, and he had simply put it down to the sheer awesomeness of the fact that somebody like Harry, who could be friends with whomever he wanted, had chosen him, Ron Weasley, to be his closest friend. And it was true, Ron couldn't really get used to the fact that the dark haired boy found him, and continued to find him, to be a person worthy of his friendship.

But in the light of his recent realisation, Ron started to wonder and worry that maybe there was something more to it than that. He started noticing that his heart seemed to skip a beat whenever the bespectacled teen touched him, that his cheeks felt warm and flushed whenever Harry said something nice to him and that he had sudden urges to reach up and touch the dark unruly hair that Harry constantly tried to tame, just to feel whether it was soft or not. With a sinking feeling to his stomach Ron had yet another realisation: he was in love with one of his best friends. Just not the one he had primarily imagined.

The Hogwarts express jerked suddenly, snapping Ron out of his thoughts. He looked around the compartment. Hermione was reading a book, her brows knitted thoughtfully, indicating deep concentration. Luna and Ginny was on the floor, playing with, and fawning over, Luna's new dragon-winged and fire-breathing fluffy white kitten ("My father brought him home for me. Isn't he a beauty?" Luna had told them, and for a short moment she had reminded Ron very much of Hagrid. He refrained from telling her that, though, as he had a strong suspicion girls didn't like being compared to half-giants with wild beards and a drinking problem). Ron kept himself at a safe distance from Mr McMuffin, as Luna had named him, but Ginny had been instantly charmed.

Ron's eyes wandered over to where Harry was sitting, the dark haired head resting against the window of the train, eyes fixed somewhere in the distant, his breath forming small and quickly evaporating clouds of mist on the glass every time he breathed out.

Harry had been different since the battle. He put on a happy facade around everyone, laughing along with the jokes and engaging in silly conversations, but Ron could see his heart was not in it. He and Hermione had tried to talk to him about the battle, but the dark haired teen just brushed them off, saying everything was fine, now that Voldemort was gone, and they really shouldn't worry about him. But worry they did, even more so when Harry refused to talk to them. Ron was hoping that going back to Hogwarts to make up for their lost final year would bring the old Harry back. The one who didn't get a pained expression in his eyes when he thought no one was watching. So far, it didn't seem to work though.

Ron sighed heavily, making Harry turn his head towards him, flashing a small smile that just for a moment reached the bespectacled boy's eyes, making them glitter and Ron's heart skip a beat. Ron suddenly lost track of all his previous thoughts and returned Harry's smile while inwardly cursing at his heating cheeks.

Yeah, it was definitely worse being in love with your best friend.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, on with chapter two. As you probably noticed in the previous chapter, I've chosen to keep Fred alive in this story. This is mainly because there's enough going on in this story already without there being this "grieving Weasleys" story arch to deal with, but also because I was really upset by Fred's death and decided that if I get to make the rules, Fred lives. I meant to mention this in the first chapter, but it slipped my mind (thank you Misery-loathes-Company for pointing this out to me). Reviews are very much welcome, as long as they're constructive.

EDIT: Decided to upload this chapter again, fixing some minor spelling mistakes that were annoying me to no end.

Disclaimer: I only own the plot, all else belongs to JK Rowling.

2.

Ron shivered slightly when he exited the train, drawing his robes closer to his body.

It was surprisingly cold for being the beginning of September, and small puffs of white smoke formed in the air when he breathed out. He heard Hagrid's voice over the cackle of voices, directing first year students to follow him, and he found himself surprised over the fact that there actually were first years attending Hogwarts this year. The world did seem to keep spinning, even though at times it felt like it wouldn't.

Hagrid offered a big wave in their direction, nearly knocking two nervous first years off their feet, and Ron waved back enthusiastically, actually knocking Harry's glasses off his nose. He quickly reached down and picked them off the ground, giving them back to Harry with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that, mate."

Harry took the glasses from Ron's hand, his fingers brushing over Ron's and sending a small current of what felt like electricity up Ron's hand and down his spine in the process.

"No worries. I should have learned to watch out for those orangutan arms of yours by now" the other boy said in jest.

"Oi! They're not orangutan arms. They're just the right length, and very well-toned if I may say so myself."

"Whatever" Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "Let's go."

They made their way through the mass of students, Hermione and Ginny following close after and Luna lost somewhere in the crowd and in her own thoughts. When they reached the carriages Ron came to a dead halt, making Ginny and Hermione crash into his back.

"What the hell Ron? I nearly broke my nose on your shoulder blade. And what's up with them being so protruding anyways, are you trying to grow wings or something?" Ginny complained, her voice muffled behind the hand she held over her battered nose.

Ron ignored her.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" he said, realising the next moment that it was a stupid question.

None the less he continued staring, slack-jawed, at the creatures pulling the carriages. Next to him he heard Hermione draw in a sharp breath, indicating she too was awed at the sight of the skeleton-like horses in front of them. Even Ginny forget about her nose and joined the staring contest.

"Come on, what's keeping you? All the carriages are going to get taken if you don't… What are you all staring at?" Harry interrupted himself, turning towards the source of their obvious fascination. "Oh. The thestrals. That's old news. Get with the program, guys."

Ron tore his eyes from the thestrals and turned his gaze to Harry, returning the playful smile the raven haired boy offered. His fascination and feeling of sorrow at finally being able to see the mythical creatures that had been pulling the Hogwarts carriages for all these years mingled with the happiness he felt at Harry being able to make a joke about the "you only see them when you have seen someone die"-beings that had once caused him and Hermione to think he was losing his mind (for what admittedly wasn't the first nor the last time). Maybe, just maybe, Harry was starting to go back to his old self again.

Standing in front of the giant gates of Hogwarts Ron was sure everyone could hear his heart thumping. This time, though, the cause for it wasn't Harry's smile, it was dread. Dread at being back at the place where the battle had been fought, where so many had died, where he for what had been the worst minutes of his life had thought that Harry had been killed and that the battle was lost.

Last time he saw the castle it had been broken, with giant boulders and wounded friends and relatives covering the place. Now it looked as if nothing had happened, as if all they had been through was just a parenthesis in the castles long and winding history. It almost made Ron angry.

"It's as if nothing has happened" Hermione whispered next to him, mirroring his thoughts.

Ron glanced at Harry as they made their way to the Giant Hall. The other boy's jaw was clenched and his hands had tensed into fists at his sides. Ron wished he could take his hand and comfort him and was saddened by the fact that he couldn't. Instead he whispered an: "Are you alright, Harry?"

To which Harry merely gave a stiff nod.

The Great Hall was as magnificent as ever, with its long rows of tables and the candles magically floating in the air above them. Ron let his gaze wander over the teacher's table, not surprised to find a lot of new faces but slightly startled to see professor McGonagall taking up the spot that he still thought of as Albus Dumbledore's, even though he knew she was the new head mistress.

They all took their places at the Gryffindor table and the first year students were marched into the hall, led by professor Sprout under the scrutinizing gaze of every other student in the hall. Professor Sprout then went to get the sorting hat and the sorting could begin. The hat had resorted to singing the song it had sung when he had first come to Hogwarts, no use for warnings of darker things to come anymore.

Ron thought it was a rather odd feeling, not facing a term filled with mortal peril and the constant threat of Voldemort.

The first years were sorted into the houses under the usual cheers, but Ron couldn't help but notice that Harry did not participate in the general celebration. Instead he stared very hard into the opposite wall, looking like he was deep in unpleasant thoughts. Ron carefully nudged him in the side.

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?"

Harry jerked and turned to face him.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Just a bit tired, that's all. When are we going to eat, I'm starving" the dark haired teen replied, a bit too quickly for it all to seem genuine.

But Ron had no time to question him further, because at that moment the hall erupted in massive applause, indicating that the sorting was complete. McGonagall rose, preparing to make the traditional head master speech. Ron glanced in Harry's direction again, only to find him having resumed his staring at the wall. Ron frowned slightly. The old Harry was far from back.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Firstly, I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and made this story a favourite, it makes me really really happy. Secondly, I thought that you may like to know that this story is going to be quite long. I have twenty chapters already, and I'm guessing it will end up at about thirty chapters. So, things will progress slowly between our favourite boys. You have been warned! =)

Disclaimer: Not mine, just having some fun with it.

3.  
>Ron had the feeling that this was a bad idea. A very bad idea. But Hermione had insisted they go, and Harry had just nodded, looking overly composed and mumbling something about what was "expected of him", without sounding very convincing.<p>

They were drawing nearer to the lake now, and Ron could see them glistening in the sun - all the white marble plaques, one for every person who had died during the battle. Professor McGonagall had told them about the memorial monument in her speech last night. And while the thought that the battle had made some kind of imprint in a surrounding that was otherwise weirdly untouched by its violent passing had felt somewhat comforting yesterday, today it filled him with dread.

Ron wasn't sure he was ready to face all the losses that had been made during the battle, and, on top of that, he was more or less convinced that Harry wasn't ready. He knew that Hermione knew this as well, but her logic got the best of her and, pushing her own and their discomfort aside, she had argued that not going would seem weird.

A not-so-whomping willow had been planted in the midst of all the plaques, its branches slowly swaying in the slight breeze. Other students had gathered there as well, reading the inscriptions on the plates, sometimes taking up their wands to make their own contributions.

The trio was close enough now to see that some of the students were crying, and Ron's suspicions of the total badness of this idea only grew. With a deep breath, and a reassuring pat on the back from Hermione, he stepped out among the plaques, walking slowly and carefully avoiding reading any of the inscriptions, not being ready to take in the fact that each stone was an individual who was loved and missed by their family and friends.

Instead he looked back at Harry, who was taking his time reading all of the inscriptions, and seemed obvious trouble with keeping his composure. It made Ron's heart ache. Hermione had made her way to Ginny, who also had decided to visit the memorial and was crying over the stones of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin.

With a sudden feeling of nausea Ron turned away, leaving Hermione to comfort his mourning sister. He saw that Harry had stopped at one plaque, staring at it almost hypnotized, his body trembling slightly. Then, all of a sudden, the dark haired boy turned on his heels and started to make his way towards the castle, almost running. Ron immediately began to run after him, pausing only to read the inscription on the stone Harry had studied so closely.

_Colin Creevey, 1981-1998. I miss you, brother._

Ron felt another wave of nausea coming over him and picked up his pace, fearing he would lose sight of Harry. He followed him into the crowd of students in the castle, trying, and failing, not to run into people while still keeping sight of Harry's dark mop of unruly hair. He saw the other teen diving in to Moaning Myrtles bathroom and followed him there. When the redhead closed the door behind him, he was met with the sound of retching from one of the booths.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright mate?" he asked stupidly, and was answered only by the sound of more retching.

"Yeah, you just take your time. I'll...I'll wait outside" Ron said, leaning against the sink outside the booth Harry was in, silently cursing at himself for not knowing what to say.

He heard flushing and the next moment Harry opened the door, his face as white as a sheet and covered with a thin layer of sweat. The bespectacled teen closed the door to the bathroom stall and slumped against it, swaying slightly.

"I can't do this, Ron" he said, voice unsteady.

"Do what?" the redhead asked carefully.

"This. All of it. Just going around...existing, when there's so many people who's not."

Harry trembled again, slowly sliding down on the floor, his back still against the bathroom door. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them tightly, and leaned his forehead against his arms. Ron remained standing for a moment, hesitant over what to do and wishing he was a girl (they always seemed to know what to do in these kinds of situations), when Harry let out a choked sob and Ron's heart broke. He got down on his knees opposite Harry and tentatively put a hand on the other boy's arm.

"Harry?" he said softly, still unsure about what to do and not wanting to upset the other boy further.

He could fell the dark haired teen's body tremble with repressed crying and carefully slipped down next to him, putting an arm around him in the hopes that it somehow would provide the comfort he couldn't form in words, while at the same time feeling that it was not nearly enough.

Harry's back was warm against his arm and Ron couldn't help but feel a slight tingling from the touch, instantly accompanied by guilt over feeling happy in a moment when Harry was so distraught.

They then sat in a silence only punctured by an occasional sob from Harry, long enough for Ron's backside to go numb and his legs start to tingle from a loss of blood flow, but that didn't really register with him. His focus was on Harry and every time the other boy sobbed, Ron squeezed his shoulder slightly in what he hoped was a comforting way.

After the passing of an unknown amount of time, Harry finally straightened up, pushing his glasses back in place and ungracefully wiping his nose with his sleeve in a single motion. Ron made to remove his arm, but before he could Harry rested his forehead against Ron's shoulder for a short second, making the redheads insides explode in a cacophony of hormones and happiness. Harry then pushed himself of the floor and pulled Ron up to a standing position as well, giving the redhead no time to dwell upon how the bespectacled teen's hair had slightly brushed his cheek.

Harry looked dishevelled, his eyes red rimmed and his cheeks slightly flushed. He looked pointedly at the floor, seeming somewhat embarrassed at his own sudden and lengthy display of emotion. He then took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Ron's gaze.

"I think we've missed dinner" he said. 

Ron shrugged.

"I'm not that hungry" he replied

"You're always hungry" Harry said with a slight smile that made the knot that had settled itself in Ron's stomach ease up a little.

They made their way to the door that lead out into the bustling corridor, but before pushing it open, Harry paused a moment to look at Ron.

"Thanks" he said simply.

"Any time, mate"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So, some people have pointed out that Colin Creevey was born in 1982, not 1981, which, when I think about it, seems more accurate. But I actually got the year from the Harry Potter Wiki, so I'll keep the incorrect year just to warn people that the internet sometimes lies *pause for collective gasp* (and because I'm too lazy to upload a new version of the chapter). Anyhow, on with the show. Reviews make me happy (unless they're, you know, mean).

Disclaimer: Not mine.

4.

The first week of the term had passed, and already the eighth year students were swamped with assignments. Obviously, having returned to Hogwarts of your own free will was not a reason to be cut some slack according to the teachers.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were sitting in the chairs by the fire, desperately trying to finish the two feet essay in potions that was due for tomorrow. Or rather, Harry and Ron were desperately trying to finish, while Hermione was putting the last touches to hers, complaining about how two feet was too little space to write about the uses of moonstone in different potions designed to render the unlucky consumer of them unattractive.

"Hermione, will you please shut up? Not only are you making me lose my concentration, you are annoying the heck out of me as well" Ron said exasperatedly, after measuring his essay for the fourth time in the last half hour, only to discover it was still half a foot too short.

"No Hermione, please continue. I think I've gotten like half of my essay out of your muttering to yourself while you write" Seamus Finnegan, who was sitting at the table next to the trio, chimed in.

Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, two of the boys with whom Harry and Ron shared their dorm, had also decided to return to Hogwarts to re-do their seventh year. Dean because he had spent almost the entire seventh year in hiding, on the account of being a muggleborn, and Seamus returned because Dean had. And, he'd explained, because he wanted to experience a seventh year that didn't entirely consist of trying to avoid punishment by the Carrow siblings.

Ron snorted at Seamus comment, earning an irritated huff from Hermione.

"You know, one would think that returning to Hogwarts of your own free will would make you at least a little more motivated to study, Ron Weasley, but you seem really intent upon failing all of your classes this year" she said, closing her books a bit too loudly.

"Ouch. Way harsh, Hermione. I am making an effort, you know. We all can't be bloody geniuses like you" Ron said, actually feeling kind of hurt by Hermione's comment.

"No, obviously not" she said while stuffing her books into her bag.

"Oh, will you two stop it? I really hoped that all of your bickering was due to unresolved sexual tension, but you two are as bad as ever, aren't you?" Harry commented with a deep sigh." You really are like the annoying younger siblings I never wanted to have."

This made Hermione blush and earned Harry a punch on the shoulder from Ron. Seamus was listening in with a wide grin.

"So you two are together now then" he said, gesturing between Ron and Hermione." About bloody time, if you asked me."

There was a sudden silence, and Ron cleared his throat. It was bound to come out some time, he thought, and now was as good as ever.

"No, were not together" he answered.

Seamus looked slightly confused.

"Then what was that about the resolved unresolved sexual tension?" he asked.

"Well…that would be down to the fact that I'm queer" Ron stated.

Both Harry and Hermione looked intently at Seamus now, awaiting his answer, and Ron knew that they were readying to defend him if Seamus reaction was in any way negative. It made Ron feel all fuzzy and warm inside. Seamus looked at a loss for words.

"You…you're gay?" he asked sceptically.

Ron simply nodded.

"And you've been gay all this time?" the Irish boy continued.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Took me a while to notice though, since, as Hermione can surely testify, I can be a bit dense sometimes" Ron answered, supressing the urge to roll his eyes.

Hermione smiled fondly at him, their previous quarrel already forgotten.

"Oh" Seamus said. "Did you know about this, Dean?"

Dean looked up from the book he was reading with a slightly amused look on his face.

"No, Seamus, I did not" the dark boy answered. "But good for you, Ron. I wish you much happiness with your newfound gayness."

Ron snorted, and suddenly saw a glimpse of what his sister had seen in Dean when she had dated him.

"Thank you Dean, I will try" the red head said.

Seamus looked from Ron to Dean, his tell-tale grin once again plastered to his face.

"So, you have a boyfriend, then, Ron?" he asked.

Now it was the redheads turn to blush.

"No, I don't."

"Do you fancy anyone, then?" Seamus pressed on.

Ron felt his stomach drop. This was really not a road he wanted this conversation to go down.

"I don't really see how that's any of your business" Ron said, opting for the answer he thought sounded most mature.

Clearly this was not the way to go with Seamus.

"So you do fancy someone then? Come on, spill it! Who is it?" the sandy haired boy continued, an almost childish excitement obvious in his voice.

Ron felt his face turn an even deeper shade of red, while seriously considering strangling the Irish boy, refraining to do so only because it might seem suspicious and because it would probably make Dean sad. Instead, he went with a condescending answer.

"Really, Seamus, are you a twelve year old girl?" Ron scoffed, feeling quite pleased with his answer and pausing for a minute, before continuing: "No, I will not bloody spill it, and I haven't really said that I fancy anyone, but if I did, which I don't, it really wouldn't be any of your business because…because it wouldn't!"

_Great job, Ron_, he thought to himself. _You really should just have stuck with the twelve-year-old-girl-thing._ Now not only Seamus was staring at him with interest, both Harry and Hermione were looking at him with unnerving curiosity. Dean was still just looking amused.

"Alright mate, don't get your knickers in a twist, just give us a clue. Is it someone we know?" Seamus continued, oblivious to Ron's discomfort.

Ron found himself wondering if the Irish boy had always been this annoying, while trying by force of will to make his cheeks stop blushing. Not really trusting his ability to come up with scathing retorts anymore, he went with the "flight" option of "fight or flight".

"Well, this essay isn't going to write itself" Ron said while hastily collecting his things and carefully avoiding everybody's gaze." I'll just finish it up in our dorm. Bye."

He quickly made it to the stairs, but not quickly enough to escape Harry and Hermione.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked.

"Why haven't you told us that you like someone?" Hermione wondered.

"Because it's not any of your bloody business" Ron hissed." Just because you used to fancy me doesn't mean that you have an automatic right to know about everyone I like. Why can't you people just leave me alone?"

Ron immediately regretted his outburst when he saw the hurt look on Hermione's face. But before he could say anything, Hermione sneered: "Fine! Be that way", turned on her heels and left. Ron stomped up the stairs to the boys' dorm, Harry following close by.

"That was unnecessary" the dark haired boy said.

"Well…she started it" Ron answered, not really in the mood for admitting faults.

Harry just sighed and made his way over to his trunk to pick up his pyjamas. He quickly changed and then turned to Ron.

"You know, you really could tell me who it is. I wouldn't mind. Neither would Hermione"

Ron's heart melted by the earnestness in Harry's voice, and he really wished that what Harry said was the truth.

"I know, Harry. It's just…it's really complicated" Ron said, silently pleading Harry not to press the subject further.

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, then just shrugged and crept into his bed.

"Good night, Ron."

"Good night, Harry."


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Ron really didn't know what was going on between Harry and Ginny, if anything at all. He knew they had decided on a break, or something of the kind, at the end of sixth year, but Ron didn't know what had been decided since.

He knew they were not together now, but he knew nothing of their intentions for the future. Were they planning to take up their relationship when the time was right? Were they just waiting to see if they still had feelings for each other? Or had they decided to just break it off completely?

Ron had tried to ask Harry about it on several occasions, in what he hoped was a casual way, but Harry had just shrugged it off with an "I don't know" or "we haven't really talked about it" and not knowing was killing Ron.

It was bad enough that he was in love with his best friend; he really didn't need the added drama of worrying about having to compete for Harry with his own sister. Although he suspected that if it really came down to that, there would be no real competition, seeing how Harry had never given him any reason to doubt that he was anything but straight and the fact that Ron was very much not a girl.

For now, Harry and Ginny were just hanging out as friends, and there was no obvious tension between them. But Ron had no doubt that Ginny still had feelings for Harry. It became obvious when he sometimes caught her eyeing Harry from across the Gryffindor common room, or in the way she casually tried to touch him every occasion she got, or the way she sometimes blushed when Harry complimented her for something. Ron knew, because he acted the same way around Harry.

Right now, Ginny was walking over to them, a great beaming smile on her face.

"Professor Sinistra just asked me to be the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year" she told them excitedly.

Professor Sinistra was the astronomy teacher, and also the new Head of House for Gryffindor, now that McGonagall had been made headmistress.

"Ginny, that's great!" Harry said, enveloping the girl in a big hug that made her blush and made Ron very much jealous.

Ron knew that Harry had been offered the position a couple of days ago, but had declined. He had not told Ginny this though, and telling her now would just mean raining on her parade. Ron offered his sister a big smile when Harry let go off her, patting her on the back and congratulating her.

"That's great, Gin. Mum will be so proud" he said.

"I hope so; I was on my way to owl her right now. But before I forget: you both will be trying out for the team this year, right?" Ginny asked.

The boys gave her a surprised look.

"Trying out?" Harry asked." I thought you were automatically admitted on the team if you had played previous years?"

"Yeah, that's usually the case. But seeing you two weren't really here last year, and anyway, quidditch was cancelled pretty early on under Snape's rule, so I thought I'd just let everyone try out this year, even those who were on the team previous years. It seemed most fair that way. I hope you don't mind?" Ginny said apologetically.

It was clear that the question was directed at Harry. After all, he was the one who had been on the team since his first year, and it was probably him that Ginny was most afraid of upsetting. Harry gave her a smile.

"No, it's alright. No worries" the dark haired boy reassured her.

"Great!" Ginny said, sounding relieved. "Try-outs are next Saturday. And don't worry Harry, there's no better seeker than you in this school. See you guys later!"

Ron and Harry looked after her as she disappeared around a corner.

"Well, it's great to know that your own sister has confidence in you" Ron said glumly.

"Come off it, Ron. I'm sure you'll make the team again" Harry said.

"Yeah, because it went so great last time around" the red head sulked.

Harry just rolled his eyes.

"If you're so worried about it, I can practice with you after school today. The field should be free. Now come on, we're late for lunch" Harry said, pushing Ron in front of him towards the Great Hall.

Later that afternoon, Harry and Ron made their way out on the field, Ron carrying his precious Cleansweep 11 and Harry with his top-of-the-line Firebolt. The weather did not seem too promising; dark clouds were forming on the horizon and there was quite a strong wind blowing over the quidditch-field. Ron didn't care, for two reasons. The first being that he needed the training, the second being that he would get to spend some time alone with Harry. They had not had very much alone-time since school started, and Ron quite missed it, not only on the basis of him being in love with Harry, but also because Harry was his best friend, after all.

"Okay, Harry" said, mounting his broom. "Let's do this."

Ron mounted his broom as well and kicked off from the ground. He was going to try out for the role as Keeper, the same position he had had last time he was on the team, and so started circling the goal posts.

The strong wind was making it hard to keep the balance on the broom, and Ron swayed unsteadily, trying to centre his weight. He saw Harry circling the fields a few times, looking as at home on the broom as he always did, and then he started to fly right at Ron, quaffle in hand. He threw the ball, and it went straight through the hoop of the middle goalpost. Ron swore loudly.

"It's alright, we'll just try again!" Harry shouted and retrieved the quaffle.

They went at it again and again and again, and each time Ron got a little better at anticipating which hoop Harry was aiming at and catching the quaffle in time, but he still felt worried that it just wouldn't be good enough. He had barely made the team the last time.

The rain started to fall, first a gentle drizzle but then the raindrops became heavier, obscuring Ron's sight and making his broom slippery.

"Maybe it's time to call it a day!" Harry shouted." I really can't see much anymore!"

"Okay!" Ron agreed. "Just one more try!"

Harry made his way to the other side of the field, disappearing behind the heavy curtain of rain that now made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of you. Ron peered through the rain, trying to see where Harry was coming from, when the other boy suddenly showed up at his left, a little bit too close for Ron to really see where he was aiming. Harry threw the quaffle and Ron made a dive for it, catching the quaffle in his hand. And then he was falling freely through the heavy rain, not really being able to discern the ground but having the dreaded feeling that this was going to hurt very much.

But then he felt a strong wrapping itself around his waist. Harry held the red head tightly to his chest, jerking his broom upwards to tryi to slow the fall. The extra weight of Ron made them both fall off the broom backwards, falling the last feet to the ground.

The landing knocked the air out of them both, and for a moment they just lay there, on their backs, Ron half-laying over Harry with the dark haired boy's arm in a firm grip around his waist. He could feel Harry's ragged breathing against his ear and for an instant the thought that this would feel great if it hadn't been for the rain and the dull ache in his back crossed his mind, interrupted by Harry suddenly pushing the red head off and getting up on his feet.

With some effort Ron managed to stand up as well, slipping slightly in the mud, and when he looked at Harry he realised that the dark haired boy was furious.

"What the hell, Ron!" Harry screamed." What did you do that for? You could have gotten seriously hurt or…or…"

"I just wanted to catch the quaffle" Ron said stupidly, feeling very much like a little boy getting scolded by his mum.

"You just wanted to catch the quaffle, huh? Well you can do that without fucking just throwing yourself into the air like that. Do you even realise how big a fall that is?" Harry continued.

"You've pulled riskier stunts than that" Ron defended himself.

"Well that's different" Harry said.

"How is that different? Because you're the great Harry Potter, the boy who lived? You're not invincible Harry. You could just as easily get hurt as I when you throw yourself after the snitch."

Ron didn't really know why he'd gotten angry all of a sudden, he just knew that he didn't want to just stand there, getting screamed at.

"It's not the same" Harry said.

"How? How is it not the bloody same? I know I'm not as good as you at quidditch, or as famous, or as liked, but it's not like…"

"Because I don't want you to fucking die!" Harry bellowed, interrupting Ron's heated argument. "Everyone around me die, Ron. Everyone I care for. And I just couldn't stand..."

Harry's voice trailed off, and Ron could see that he had tears in his eyes. A wave of guilt swept over Ron and he suddenly acted on instinct, not caring how it would seem or what Harry would think. He opened his arms and enveloped the other boy in a tight hug. Harry's body stiffened at the sudden contact, but he soon relaxed into the hug, leaning his head against Ron's shoulder while softly crying into the taller boy's sweatshirt.

"I'm sorry, Harry" Ron mumbled. "I wasn't thinking."

"Damn right you weren't" Harry sniffled.

Ron laughed quietly at that, giving Harry's back a gentle pat and taking a moment to relish the feeling of Harry's warm body against his, before Harry straightened out of the hug, wiping his eyes with his sleeve to no avail, seeing how the rain was still pouring down around them. He offered Ron a weak smile.

"I really have turned into quite a cry-baby, haven't I?" Harry said.

"Yeah" Ron agreed, returning the smile." But it's alright. Anyone would in your situation. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did. Now let's get back, they're going to serve dinner soon and this time I really am hungry."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Since I forgot the disclaimer in the last chapter, I'll just do it twice this time: Not mine. Not mine.

6.

"So, word on the street says you fancy me."

Ron inwardly cursed at himself. He should have known this would happen.

The problem with Seamus was his annoying inability to let anything go. That, in combination with his non-existing grasp of what was appropriate, spelled an exasperated Ron Weasley. The Irish boy just wouldn't leave Ron alone, constantly pestering him with questions about who he fancied. Ron tried to ignore him, but Seamus' behaviour soon caught on and before he knew it, all of his friends were constantly, in more or less subtle ways, trying to get him to spill the beans about his secret crush.

Hermione was beating around the bush with sayings of how she really wouldn't care who it was, and that she was his friend and he could tell her everything. Harry wasn't questioning him straight out, but he grew very attentive as soon as the subject was brought up, and it was brought up a lot. Ginny just flat out asked him every other day. And then there was Seamus, who not only asked Ron about the subject several times a day, but also had started the very annoying habit of pointing at random boys in the hallway or the Great Hall and asking "is it him?" or "he's cute, isn't he?".

This, of course, resulted in the entire school now knowing about Ron's "switching teams". Not that he really cared that everyone knew, there really hadn't been any bad reactions, and even if there would be, he knew his friends would be by his side in a second, hexing whomever it might be into the next week for being a prejudiced bastard. It was just that he would have preferred not being outed by Seamus constant poking around in things that really weren't any of his business. He had told the Irish boy this on several occasions, in more or less friendly manners, but Seamus refused to be deterred, and it had driven Ron to the brink of desperation.

It had been Thursday and Ron was sitting in the common room with Harry and Hermione, trying to study but constantly letting his thoughts drift to the try-outs on Saturday. He had practiced with Harry on several occasions over the week, without falling accidents this time, and though he had grown steadily better, he was far from certain that his nerves wouldn't get the best of him on Saturday.

Hermione had already finished all of her work and was now chatting away with Ginny, when Seamus decided to join the girls. Ron immediately tensed up, knowing what was coming.

"So, girls, any luck on finding out who Ron's secret crush is?" Seamus asked the two girls.

Ron groaned and tried harder to focus on his studying, trying in vain to shut out the conversation.

"Nope. He's as silent as ever. I'm starting to suspect that it may be someone he knows really well, since he's so intent at keeping it a secret" Ginny said mischievously.

Ron's heart started to beat wildly, and he gave up every ambition of ever being able to study in this overly snooping environment, putting down his quill and shooting his sister an evil glare.

"Or maybe _he_ just thinks that it's none of your bloody business" Ron retorted through clenched teeth.

"Touchy subject, Ron? Maybe I'm getting a bit too close for comfort?" Ginny teased.

Ron immediately blushed and tried to silently will his sister not to take the subject further.

"Maybe the subject of your admiration is in this very room, right now?" Ginny continued, leaving Ron's silent pleas unanswered while letting her eyes wander around the Gryffindor common room.

_Or maybe I should just hex her_, Ron thought, his blush turning an even deeper shade of red.

"Maybe he's sitting at this very table" Ginny carried on relentlessly, all eyes at the table now being turned at her, everyone within earshot eagerly awaiting her next words.

"Maybe it's…" she started, before Ron interrupted her.

"It's Blaise Zabini!" Ron blurted, and as soon as the words left his mouth he knew nothing good would come out of this.

He had only thought of Zabini since he'd heard this rumour in sixth year that Blaise was gay, and at that time it had been comforting to know that maybe he wasn't the only gay kid at Hogwarts. And now Zabini's name popped into his brain at the worst possible moment.

Everyone's attention was now fixed on him, and he there were various degrees of shock etched onto all the faces around the table. Ginny was the first to come to her senses.

"Blaise Zabini? Really, Ron?" she said incredulously.

"Yeah. So what?" Ron said defiantly, hoping they would not prod the subject further, although he had a sneaking suspicion this was perhaps a tad naïve of him.

"Since when?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Since…since a while back" Ron said. "Since the start of the term" he immediately added, when he saw the hurt look on Hermione's face, cutting any suspicion that he might have 'fancied' Zabini when he was supposed to be in love with Hermione short.

"Why?" Seamus wanted to know. "You've always thought of him as a slimy Slytherin git, haven't you?"

Ron was starting to discover some flaws in his not-so-well-thought-out plan. He had always disliked Zabini, if for nothing else so for the fact that he was in Slytherin, and in Ron's world, all Slytherins were Voldemort-loving, muggle-hating morons. He cleared his throat, trying to think of something to answer.

"Yeah, well…I don't think so anymore."

He inwardly cringed. _Yeah, brilliant answer, Ron. That'll convince them_, he thought to himself.

"What made you change your mind?" Seamus asked, not seeming to want to let go of the subject anytime soon.

"Well I…I…" Ron stuttered.

"He is kind of hot" Ginny filled in, making her the centre of attention again.

"What? He is. Those dark eyes and that silky skin and those lips…You'd have to be blind not to see it" Ginny continued, unfazed. "He's a total idiot and all that, but he's a good-looking idiot."

"Well, yeah" Ron agreed.

Now that he thought about it, Zabini really was kind of good-looking, for a Slytherin.

"So what, you changed your mind about him because he's hot?" Seamus said.

Ron opened his mouth to deliver yet another not-so-well thought-out answer, when Harry suddenly spoke up.

"Can't you just leave Ron alone? He can like whoever he wants; it's not really our business" the dark haired boy said.

Ron flashed Harry a grateful look, only to be met with a look of confusion and what looked like disappointment. Ron's stomach dropped, but before he had the chance to say anything, Seamus once again decided that it was his turn to speak.

"Yeah, but _Blaise Zabini_?" he said, pronouncing the name like it was a poisonous snake.

"Harry's right" Hermione chimed in. "It's Ron's life. And I'm sure Blaise is perfectly nice, once you get to know him" she added without much conviction.

"Thanks Hermione" Ron said in earnest. "Well, I'm off to bed" he continued, gathering his stuff and making it up the stairs to the dorm before any of them could ask any more questions.

He was already in bed, faking sleep when Harry entered the dorm.

"Ron" the dark haired boy whispered. "Ron, are you awake?"

For a moment, Ron considered to just let the other boy believe he had fallen asleep, but then his conscience got the best of him and he opened his eyes, to find Harry standing next to his bed.

"What is it, mate?" the red head asked, faking a sleepy tone in his voice.

Harry still had that weird mix of confusion and disappointment in his eyes when he met Ron's gaze, and it made Ron wanting to take everything back, to confess that he was not really in love with Zabini, that he had just said that to get Seamus off his back. But before he had the chance, Harry started talking.

"I just wanted to say that…that I meant what I said downstairs. You know, it's your life and you may like whoever you want. I mean, I was a little surprised that it was, you know, Blaise, but your my best friend and… and…yeah. I just wanted you to know that I don't care. Or, I mean, I don't mind that you're…that you fancy…Blaise."

At the end of Harry's speech Ron was smiling, a bit touched that Harry wanted to show his support, although it was thoroughly misguided.

"Harry, I…Thanks mate. That means a lot" Ron said.

"Yeah, well…You're welcome. I'm going to bed now. Good night, Ron."

Harry gave him an awkward pat on the leg that made Ron's heart jump, before making his way over to his own bed.

"Good night, Harry."

In a perfect world, that would have been the last of it. But a perfect world didn't contain Seamus Finnegan and his big mouth. Which lead Ron up to this moment; a smirking Blaise Zabini blocking his way with an expectant look on his face.

"Well, Weasley, is it true? Are you madly in love with me?" Zabini asked.

"I really don't see how that's any of your business, Zabini" Ron said, pushing past the dark boy.

"Oh, I believe it is very much my business, seeing how I am the alleged subject of your affections" Zabini responded, falling in step with Ron.

"Sod off" the red head scoffed.

"Touchy subject, I believe. But you really are a poof, then?" Zabini pressed on.

Ron stopped, turning to face Blaise.

"That's not really any of your business either, but yes I am. And I'd prefer if you didn't use that word" Ron explained.

"Why not? It's only a word, and it's what they call us anyway. We shouldn't let a word degrade us."

Ron was slightly surprised by this sudden display of insight from Blaise, but all of that vanished when the dark boy once again opened his mouth.

"You still haven't answered my question though. Do you want a piece of this?" Zabini asked, indicating himself with a sweeping motion of his hand.

Ron just sighed and once again started walking, the dark boy following in his footsteps like a very annoying and way too handsome puppy.

"Because I don't really mind. You're do-able, I guess, although I would not like to be seen in public with you, it would ruin my reputation forever. Where are we going?"

"_I'm_ going to the Quidditch field. _You're_ going anywhere else but there" Ron answered through clenched teeth.

"No, I'll come with you. I'm not really a big fan of Quidditch but this" said Blaise, pointing between them "is _way_ too much fun to let go off."

Ron picked up the pace, hoping that this would deter the other boy, but Blaise kept following him.

"You know, I really thought Daphne was fucking with me when she told me that Ron Weasley, best friend of the Golden Boy, had a crush on me, but she said she had heard it from some girl in Ravenclaw who had heard it from one of the Patil twins who had heard it from that Finnegan-boy who had heard it from you, and then Pansy told me the same thing so I guess it must be true. It's the stuff romantic novels are made of, don't you think? Or maybe comedy, but anyway I think it's bloody hilarious."

Ron stopped once again and turned to Blaise, who had a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"I'm glad you think so but I would really, really like to do my Quidditch try-out right now, so if you could just sod off and go annoy someone else I'd be really happy" Ron said, feeling his blood pressure rising more and more for every minute he had to spend in Zabini's company.

"Fine, I'll leave you to it. But this is not over, Weasley. It is far from over" Zabini said, turning around and making his way back to the castle.

Ron turned around and made his way onto the Qudditch field, when he heard a:

"Oh, and good luck on your try out, _Ron_!" shouted from a distance.

The red head felt his cheeks flush and met the eyes of a very confused Harry.

"What was that all about?" the bespectacled boy asked.

"Don't bloody ask" Ron sighed, tightening the grip on his broom, and suddenly feeling like the impending try-out was the least of his worries.

A/N: So, for the purpose of this story I'm kind of ignoring those nasty things Blaise said about Ginny in book six (I had totally forgotten about them until I stumbled upon it while researching Blaise a little closer), because that would mean too much explaining on Ron's behalf, since I really don't think he would ever even pretend to go for someone who had insulted his sister that way. So, for the story I'm just keeping Blaise a classic Slytherin, which is complicated enough. Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So, this chapter is a bit long. It was originally two chapters, but I decided to merge them into one since one of the chapters was really short and really didn't had much going on in it. I hope you enjoy it.

Reviews make my day!

Warnings: Some foul language, mentions of sex.

Disclaimer: They're all JK Rowling's.

7.

"Are you coming mate?" Harry asked, waiting impatiently for Ron in the doorway.

"Yeah, in a minute" Ron answered, trying to get the collar on his dressing robes to sit straight and stop itching. "I still don't get why McGonagall is making us all wear formal wear. Since when has the Halloween feast been such a big deal anyway?"

Harry sighed.

"Since I killed Voldemort and saved the wizarding world. Some people seem to think that that is a reason to celebrate"

"Yeah, well, they should have just given you a statue or something" Ron whined. "This is just plain torture."

"They already gave me a statue, remember?" Harry reminded him in a light tone. "Oh, for crying out loud, let me help you with that."

Harry made his way over to Ron, swapping Ron's hands away from the collar and adjusting it himself. The dark haired teen's fingers slightly brushed Ron's neck, and the red head became painfully aware of how close they were standing to each other.

"There" Harry said, giving Ron's collar a final tug. "All better."

He looked up, his gaze meeting Ron's, and for a moment they just stood there, close enough for their breaths to mingle between them. Ron broke the tension by clearing his throat.

"Erm, thanks for the help mate" he said awkwardly.

Harry blushed and quickly took a step back, increasing the space between him and the red head.

"No worries. Shall we go?" the bespectacled boy asked hastily, stumbling a bit over the words.

Ron nodded, and they both made their way towards the door.

"Hey, mate, it could have been worse" Harry said while they made their way down the stairs towards the Great Hall. "They could have made us get dates."

Harry and Hermione had of course figured out that Blaise now knew that Ron "fancied" him. Not that it was that hard to figure out, seeing how 'discrete' didn't seem to be a concept that existed in the world of Blaise Zabini. The dark boy seemed to just show up wherever Ron went, alternating between mocking Ron for his alleged crush on him, and some weird sort of flirting that mainly consisted of standing a bit too close to the red head and making innuendos that made Ron blush.

Zabini didn't care who happened to be nearby whenever he decided to jump Ron. In fact, the dark boy actually seemed to enjoy an audience, making Ron wish he could use that Time Turner Hermione had gotten in their third year to go back in time and stop himself from ever claiming he was in love with Blaise Zabini.

The only good thing that had really come out of this entire ordeal with Zabini was that Ron had been so annoyed with the dark boy at the Quidditch try-outs, that he had completely forgotten to be nervous, and so now he was once again the Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The red head had briefly considered letting Zabini wind him up before every game, but had decided against it when he realised that that scenario actually seemed very probable, if things kept on going like they were now. And getting a bit better at Quidditch simply wasn't worth being constantly humiliated by the gloating Slytherin.

The Great Hall was magnificent, with giant pumpkin heads floating above the tables where the candles used to be, and the entire room was decorated in red, orange, brown and green, making it look like a wonderful forest on a sunny day of fall. Hermione made their way towards them, dressed in a green dress that made her look stunning.

"Hi Hermione. You look great" Ron said, feeling happy to finally being able to compliment her looks without the whole situation turning awkward and the air fill with hormones and feelings.

None the less, the comment made Hermione blush.

"Thank you Ron. You don't look half bad yourself" she replied.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"I can't believe they made us wear formal. It's just Halloween, for heaven's sake" he said.

Hermione patted him comfortingly on the arm.

"At least this gown is better than that ghastly thing you wore to the Yule Ball" she said comfortingly.

Ron cringed at the memory of that night.

"Yeah, you don't have to remind me" he said.

At that moment, Ginny made their way over to them, wearing a pretty pink dress that made it clear to everyone that she was no longer a little girl. Ron could see Harry straightening up a little, looking all starry eyed as the youngest Weasley made her way over to them. It made Ron feel slightly sick.

"Ginny, you look…wow" Harry managed to get out.

Ginny laughed and blushed.

"Thank you Harry. You look quite dashing yourself" she said, putting her hand on Harry's arm.

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione asked." You look a bit sick."

He turned to his friend, forcing a smile to his lips.

"I'm just fine" he lied. "Shall we go sit down? I think they are about to serve the food."

The dinner was grander than ever, with an abundance of delicious food that made all of them eat more than they really needed. McGonagall held a very emotional speech on the war, its losses and the hope they all now had for the future, which made several of the students, and Hagrid, cry. Then it was time for the dance.

With a flick of her wand, McGonagall made the tables disappear, and with another flick she conjured a stage on which the Weird Sisters, the famous wizard band appeared. A small crowd gathered at the stage and started dancing, the rest of the students were just standing around with drinks in their hands, talking to each other or glancing longingly towards the dance floor, hoping to get asked to dance.

Ron, on his hand, stood alone in a corner, trying to ignore the black hole of jealousy in his stomach as he saw his laughing sister drag off a reluctant Harry towards the dance floor. The music was slow and Ginny put her hands on Harry's shoulders, leading him in a slow dance as Harry let his hands settle on her waist. Ron wanted so desperately to be in Ginny's place, but at the same time he realised that it was impossible.

"Well hello there, sunshine. Moping much?"

Ron turned his head to find Blaise Zabini next to him, one drink in each hand and a smirk on his face. Ron groaned.

"What do you want?" the red head scoffed.

"What do you mean 'what do I want'? You almost sound as if you're not happy to see me. Is that really the way to greet the love of your life?" Zabini said, with a mock-hurt tone in his voice.

"You're not the love of my life" Ron muttered, glancing once again towards Ginny and Harry on the dance floor. Harry looked really happy.

"That's not what I've heard, pet" the dark boy teased.

"Don't call me pet" the red head sneered.

" 'Don't call me pet, don't call me poof' " Zabini mocked. "What on earth should I call you then?"

"I'd rather you just didn't call me anything" Ron said, as he tore his gaze away from the dance floor and looked Zabini in the eye. The dark boy had a tantalizing smile playing on his lips, which only served to agitate Ron further.

"You're no fun. Here, have a drink" Zabini said, offering the red head one of the glasses he was holding. "You look like you need one."

Ron took the glass after a moment's hesitation, downing its pink, sickly sweet content in one giant gulp, and immediately went into a coughing fit.

"Oh yeah, I spiked the punch with fire whiskey. You looked like you could need that too. Let's dance" Blaise said, grabbing Ron's arm and dragging him towards the dance floor.

"No way" Ron said, struggling against Blaise's grip.

"Oh come on, how else are you going to convince people that you're in love with me?" the dark boy asked.

Ron stopped dead in his tracks.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I know you're not in love with me; you're obviously just using me as a cover story. I mean, I have been making advances on you for a week and you're not hot and bothered at all, you're just bothered" Blaise stated matter-of-factly.

"Advances? Is that what you call cornering me in empty hallways and making that weird, spastic thing with your face at me at breakfast?"

"It's called winking, you moron, and I'll have you know that I've got flirting down to a fine art" Blaise said, sounding offended.

"Yeah, you're real subtle" Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not the one pining over someone I can't have, pretending to be in love with someone else so that no one finds out about my shameful little secret" Blaise retorted. "Come on, let's dance and keep this sad excuse for a crush going a little while longer."

Ron let himself be lead out on the dance floor, where Blaise clasped his hands behind Ron's neck. Ron, a little unwillingly, put his hands on Blaise's hips. He could see other people staring, but no one said anything so he just ignored them.

"Wow, you're really tall" Blaise established, tilting his head back slightly so he could meet Ron's eyes.

"So they tell me" the red head answered.

"It's actually too bad you're not in love with me; I wouldn't mind banging you, even though you're a Gryffindork."

"How noble of you" Ron said with another roll of his eyes.

"So, how's the whole 'being gay' thing working out for you?" the dark boy asked straightforwardly.

"Well, I'm dancing with someone with a penis, so I'd say I'm making progress" Ron answered. "But hey, if you know I'm not really crushing on you, why are you bothering with me?"

"Because it's still fun winding you up and because all the returning eighth year Slytherins, well, all four of them, are so fucking boring."

"And I'm not?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you're better than Pansy Parkinson, who's constantly whining about Draco not answering her letters. She really can't take a hint. And that Daphne Greengrass is a total yawn, all pretty outside and a dead boring inside" Blaise explained.

The music stopped, and the dancing couples disentangled from each other. Blaise looked at his watch.

"This place is dead. Let's split" he said.

Ron's eyes found Harry, standing in a corner with his sister, talking and laughing, their heads much closer together than Ron thought necessary.

"Sure, why not" Ron answered, following Blaise out of the Great Hall.

They went outside, where the cold night air seemed to lift some of the pressure Ron felt constricting his chest. The garden was filled with snogging couples, looking like they were trying to swallow each other's faces while making loud slurping noises.

"Charming" Ron muttered, passing yet another couple so entangled you couldn't tell where one ended and the other started.

"You're just jealous, Weasley. I'm sure you wouldn't mind a little snog fest of your own with whoever you're pining after" the Slytherin said.

"Keep it down, will you" Ron hissed.

"Oh relax, do you really think any of these people care about what we're talking about" Zabini said, conjuring a flask from the inner pocket of his robes."Firewhiskey?"

"No thanks" Ron said, but then an image of Harry and Ginny, dancing and laughing, flashed before him, and he changed his mind, taking the flask out of Zabini's hand and taking a big swig from it.

"Hey, leave some for me" Blaise complained, stealing his flask back and downing a mouthful of the golden liquid.

They sat down on the edge of a fountain, right at the end of the garden and at a safe distance from the snogging couples. Blaise took another sip on his bottle and gave it to Ron.

"So, how's it going for you then? The whole 'being gay' thing?" Ron asked, after forcing down another mouthful of the firewhiskey.

Blaise shrugged.

"Alright, I guess. I mean, some of my housemates had a bit of a trouble with it at first. Apparently that entire pureblood nonsense applies to sexualities as well, according to some…"

"Nonsense?" Ron interrupted.

"Surprised, Weasley? We're not all part of the Dark Lord's fan club, you know. Some of us were just playing along to keep out of trouble. I know that might seem immoral to a noble Gryffindork like you, but it's really just a survival tactic. Go for the side that wins, you know. If that means throwing in some half-hearted comments about blood traitors and whatnot, then that's what you do" Blaise explained in a light tone.

"You know, part of me is upset by that, the other part knows that that's all you can expect from a slimy Slytherin git" Ron said. "But hey, so you play along with the entire pureblood-thing, but when it comes to them disliking people who're not straight, you suddenly decide to stand your ground?"

"Yeah, well, the sexuality-thing applies directly to me, the mudblood and bloodtraitor drivel, not so much. You see how that works?" Blaise said, earning an exasperated sigh from Ron. "Either way, as I was saying, some were a bit bothered, but I didn't really care. Once, that ogre Goyle tried to rough me up a bit, but since he's always been quite slow with the wand he was no match for me. After that, everyone kind of just left me alone. And though I wouldn't exactly say Hogwarts is a gold mine if you're gay, there are quite a few boys who won't turn down some same sex action."

"So what, there are other poofs in Hogwarts?"

Ron was a bit surprised; he had really thought that he and Blaise were the only ones. Although, when he thought about it, it only seemed logic that there would be more non-straight students at Hogwarts, as far as statistics go.

"Don't use that word, Weasley; it's offensive" Blaise said with a smile. "And no, I wouldn't exactly say they're gay, most of them are just exploring their options. The only other real queer I know is Justin Finch Fletchley, but he's so far in the closet I doubt he'll ever be able to find his way out."

Ron's laugh made him choke on the firewhiskey he was currently trying to swallow.

"Justin Finch Fletchley" he coughed. "That prat?"

"Yeah, that prat. He's really kind of boring, but surprisingly he's a really good lay" Blaise said.

"I find that hard to imagine."

"So did I, but don't judge a book by its cover" Blaise said, snatching the firewhiskey flask from Ron. "So, have you had time to see how the land lies, boyswise, yet?"

Ron blushed and took another sip from Blaise's bottle.

"No" he replied.

"So you've never shagged anyone" the dark boy asked, undeterred by the subject.

Ron shook his head.

"Petting?"

Another shake.

"Blowjobs?"

Ron just gave the dark boy a look of 'what do you think?'.

"Ron, have you ever even kissed another guy?" Blaise asked, actually sounding slightly caring.

Ron blushed even deeper.

"No" he admitted.

"But…why? I mean, you're fairly attractive."

"I've only been out for a couple of months, and you know, the opportunity hasn't really presented itself. Plus, I am, as you so delicately put it, pining after someone I can't have" Ron said bitterly, staring intently at the ground.

Suddenly he felt a warm hand cupping his chin, as Blaise gently turned his head so he was facing the dark boy. Ron could see Blaise's face getting closer, and he had time to think that Ginny was right; Blaise really had gorgeous eyes, before he felt a pair of soft lips against his own, and closed his eyes to avoid getting cross-eyed.

Blaise was gentle at first, softly nipping at Ron's lips with his own before gently prodding them apart with his tongue to gain access to Ron's mouth, which Ron gave him willingly. He liked the kiss. There still were no fireworks or butterflies, and the ground most definitely did not shake beneath his feet, but there was something. Attraction maybe, and a definite stirring in the nether regions.

Blaise's tongue felt good against his own, not a dead slug, like Lavender's, or a sister's, like Hermione's, but warm and soft and kind of amazing, actually. Blaise really knew his stuff. After gently biting down on Ron's bottom lip, earning him a surprised moan from the red head, Blaise withdrew, slightly out of breath.

"Well Weasley, you're not a bad kisser, who would have thought?" the dark boy smirked.

"You're not half bad yourself" Ron said, realising that he was not only out of breath, but also slurring slightly. He obviously had had a few sips too much of the firewhiskey, but he didn't care, he felt good.

"Are you sure you're not up for a shag? I promise I'll be gentle" Blaise asked, half-jokingly.

"Less sure than I was a minute a go, but it's still a "no" for me" Ron laughed. "We should be heading back, it's getting late and my head is spinning."

Blaise shrugged.

"It's your loss. And at least you've lost your same sex kiss-virginity. Maybe I can still find Justin in there. Come on, loverboy. Let's get you back to your dorm."

When Ron stumbled into their Gryffindor dorm room, Harry was already there, changing into his pyjamas. Ron caught a glimpse of Harry's naked back and supressed an urge to let his hand run over what seemed to be silky smooth skin, before Harry let his pyjamas top slip into place and turned around.

"Oh. Hi Ron. Where have you been?" the dark haired boy asked.

Ron made his way over to his bed and sat down heavily.

"Oh, you know, just away" Ron slurred dismissively.

"Are you drunk?" Harry asked.

"Maybe just a little" Ron confessed.

Harry sat down on his own bed, facing Ron.

"So…I saw you dancing with Blaise…" the dark haired boy said hesitantly.

"Yeah, I guess I did" Ron said.

He really didn't feel like recapping his night with Blaise to Harry.

"Where did you go? You just disappeared?" Harry pressed on.

"I went outside" the red head answered reluctantly.

"With Blaise?"

"Yes, with Blaise" Ron said, really not liking where this conversation was going.

"So…what happened?" Harry asked, trying, and failing, to sound casual.

"What do you mean 'what happened'?" Ron said, opting for the deliberate 'I don't know where you're going with this'-tactic.

"I mean…you like him right? And he knows you like him…and…well…" Harry continued, sounding a bit uncomfortable with the subject.

"Well? We kissed, that's what happened."

"Oh" Harry said, in a tone that didn't make sense to Ron in his drunken state.

"Oh indeed" Ron said. "And what about you Harry? What happened between you and my sister?"

"Between me and Ginny? Nothing. We danced and talked and hung out with Hermione and Luna."

"Oh really?" Ron said, feeling his temper rising. "Only dancing and talking, huh?"

"Yes. I don't really know what you're getting at, Ron. I thought that you were okay with me and Ginny being together, and we're not even together right now, I've told you that" Harry said, sounding a bit exasperated.

"Yeah well, it didn't look like that to me" Ron snapped.

"I don't get you, Ron. You want me to back off your sister, is that it? Because I don't think you get to decide who she spends her time with" Harry retorted, annoyance apparent in his voice now.

"You know what, Harry. Forget it. Just forget it. I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow."

Ron demonstratively turned his back on Harry and started to undress. He could hear the other boy sigh and crawling into bed, and felt a stab of bad conscience, but he really couldn't be bothered with that right now. He changed into his pyjamas and slid into bed, the image of Harry and Ginny dancing flashing before him again before he fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Shorter chapter this time, hope you still enjoy it. And a big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed and made this story a favourite. It makes me so, so happy (like, to the point of absurdity).

Disclaimer: Not mine in any way.

9.

Ron woke up the next morning to a pounding headache and the sound of someone rummaging through his trunk. He groaned, cursing at himself for being such a light weight when it came to alcohol, cursing again when he realised the solution to stop being a light weight was building tolerance, which meant drinking more alcohol, and right now, the thought of more alcohol made his stomach turn.

A mop of dark, unruly hair peaked up from the foot of his bed.

"Oh, you're awake" Harry said. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to wake you. I was just looking for your chess board; Dean wanted to play."

"It's under the bed, I think" Ron mumbled." What time is it?"

Harry showed up from under Ron's bed, dusting of the chess game.

"About lunch time" the dark haired boy answered, sounding a bit distant for reasons Ron couldn't really understand.

But then he remembered last night, and another groan escaped his lips. Trying to confront Harry about Ginny while being drunk had certainly not been one of the brightest ideas the red head had ever had.

"Harry, last night…" Ron started, hesitant of the best way to go about this.

"What about it?" Harry said.

Ron took a deep breath, opting for the earnest apology.

"Look, I'm sorry" he explained. "It's really none of my business what you and my sister do, I was drunk and just…I don't know, bitter, I guess."

Harry sat down on the edge of the red head's bed.

"Why were you bitter? I mean, you had just snogged the person you fancy, right?" the bespectacled teen asked, sounding a bit confused.

"Oh, yeah" Ron said, blushing at the memory. "About that…It really wasn't anything serious."

Harry frowned.

"But you kissed? And you like him. And he must like you too, why else would he have kissed you?"

Harry's confusion just seemed to grow, and Ron smiled fondly at the other boy's naivety.

"Well, he liked me enough to kiss me, anyway" Ron explained.

Realisation seemed to dawn on Harry.

"So, what? You're not together, not dating or anything?" he asked.

"Nope. Just that one kiss" the red head responded.

"Are you…alright with that? Or do you want me to hex him?" the bespectacled teen wondered.

Ron laughed.

"No, that's alright. I'm fine. Or at least I will be, as soon as I get hold of some food. It's lunch time, you say?"

"Just about" Harry said, glancing at his watch.

"Well, let's go then" Ron said, making his way out of bed with some effort. "I'm starving."

Ron would never really know how these things happened, but by dinner time that night the whole school knew that he and Blaise had kissed. Girls sniggered when he went past them in the hallways and Seamus was more unbearable than usual.

"You know it's really all my doing" he boasted at the dinner table. "Without me we never would have known who it was, and then none of this would have happened."

"You know what, Finnegan? It's only you who can make blabbering about things you shouldn't blabber about and sticking your nose into other people's business sounding like something worth an award" Ron barked.

Seamus just smiled even bigger, looking utterly pleased with himself. Ron felt his skin prickle with annoyance, and opened his mouth to give Seamus a piece of his mind, when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Leave it, Ron. He'll never get it anyway" Hermione said.

Ron sighed, settling for giving the Irish teen a death-glare before returning to his food.

"But you're not dating, then?" Hermione asked.

"No, Hermione, as I told you, we're not dating. It was just a kiss. People can kiss each other without being together forever after" Ron retorted.

"I know that, Ron. But you like him, so you should want to date him, shouldn't you?"

_Damn Hermione and her logic_, Ron thought.

"Yeah" he answered hesitantly." But there are two people in a relationship, and he's not interested in me in that way, so…"

Hermione didn't say anything else, but she didn't seem completely convinced his answer either. Ron quickly finished his food and left the table, before anyone else could start poking about in things that weren't really their business. He was heading for the stairs to the Gryffindor tower when he bumped into someone, nearly falling over when that someone caught him and pulled him to his feet.

"Watch where you're going there, pet. Someone could get hurt" Blaise Zabini said, looking up at him with a gleeful smile on his face.

"Oh, it's you" Ron said, straightening his robes.

"It almost sounds as if you're not happy to see me" Blaise pouted.

"Oh, quit the act, Zabini. Pouting doesn't suit you. And, if you haven't noticed, where the big gossip around here, so no, I'm not entirely happy to see you" Ron huffed.

"Firstly, Ron, as soon as you stick your tongue down someone's throat I think it's only polite to start calling them by their first name. And secondly; I have noticed and isn't it amazing? I mean, can you see all the fourth- and fifth years fangirling us right now? Maybe we should give them a show?" Blaise said suggestively, grabbing Ron's tie and yanking him forward.

Ron immediately took a step back and pulled his tie out of Blaise's grip.

"We most definitely should not" he spluttered, straightening his robes once more while looking up and down the hall to make sure nobody had seen them, deciding to count the small group of giggling fourth year Ravenclaw girls as 'nobody'.

"Killjoy" Blaise said, and Ron half expected him to stick his tongue out. "But if I'm honest it hasn't been all fun and games for me either. Daphne and Pansy are shunning me for fraternising with the enemy, as they call it, and some other Slytherins have gone from just ignoring me to shoving me around and calling me names."

"Oh" Ron said, slightly taken aback by Blaise's confession." I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

"No worries" Blaise said dismissively." I can handle it. If it gets too bad I will just have to hex someone again."

"Yeah, well. Let me know if it gets out of hand…" the red head mumbled.

"Isn't that sweet, my knight in shining armour? But seriously, pet, I can handle. Don't you worry. But now I must be off. I'm meeting Justin in the astronomy tower. See you later!"

Ron watched the dark boy disappear behind a corner and smiled to himself. Blaise Zabini really was something else.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Firstly, thanks again for all the reviews. I'm so happy people seem to like my story. Secondly, a big thank you to my brand new, very awesome beta, Misery-loathes-Company, for straightening out all the quirks in my writing.

I hope you all will enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

9.

Things just stabilised for a while. People grew tired of gossiping about Ron and Blaise, and the redhead found himself growing closer to the Slytherin, surprisingly enough, really enjoying Blaise's company. All the while his little "dates" with the dark boy provided an effective cover for concealing his true crush.

Quidditch practice had become routine, and they had won their first game against Hufflepuff, despite some of Ron's nerve-related mistakes. Schoolwork was not too overpowering, and so he had time to spend with Harry and Hermione, just sitting in front of the fire in the common room, talking and reminiscing. Sometimes the trio went down to Hagrid's hut, drinking tea and trying to feed his rock hard biscuits to Fang without the half-giant noticing.

Ron felt he had grown closer to Harry as well. The other boy had opened up to him more, talking about the war and the losses they'd suffered. It still wasn't easy, getting Harry to talk, but the words seemed to flow a little more freely nowadays. Sometimes Ron would catch Harry staring at him with a thoughtful look on his face. When he realised Ron had caught him staring, he often just smiled quickly and looked away. Ron had no idea what it meant, but a small part of him couldn't help but hoping that maybe, just maybe, it meant that Harry was starting to view him with new eyes.

Even Seamus had backed off a little, seeming to have grown bored of pestering Ron, and the Irish boy was now focusing more on his new project; getting Dean a girlfriend. Ron, of course, felt sorry for Dean, but at the same time was relieved that Seamus found him a better target than Ron for the moment.

But nothing lasts forever.

One night when Ron entered the common room, Hermione waved him aside.

"Ron, can I talk to you?" she asked.

"Sure, what do you want to talk about?" he said.

She looked around the common room, which was crowded with fellow Gryffindors.

"Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere more…private?"

Ron felt his stomach drop. Nothing good had ever followed that question.

"Erm, sure," he answered. "The Charms classroom should be empty at this hour."

They made their way there under silence, Hermione giving Ron unreadable glances on the way. The Charms classroom was dark and empty, but a flick from Hermione's wand had the room bathing in soft, yellow light with no obvious source. She took a deep breath and turned to face him.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I would appreciate it if you were honest with me," she said.

"Well, seeing how I have no idea what your questions are, I can't really promise that. But I'll try," Ron said, feeling very nervous all of a sudden.

She took another deep breath.

"Okay. Firstly, you're not really in love with Blaise, are you?"

Ron was a bit startled, he really thought he and Blaise had done a good job fooling everyone. But on the other hand, this was Hermione. She had never been easily fooled. He answered by shaking his head.

"He is just a decoy to stop us from finding out who you're really in love with, right?" she continued.

"Yeah," Ron answered, voice a little shaky.

He had a feeling this conversation was going right down the path he least wanted it to.

"Okay, I'm just going to ask, and please don't lie to me. Ron, are you in love with Harry?" Hermione asked.

Even though he had expected the question, it still felt like it caught him totally off guard. He hadn't told anyone that he was in love with Harry, had never even considered it, and here was Hermione, having figured it out all by herself. He was afraid to answer, fearing that it could potentially change the trio's friendship forever, but he guessed that his silence was answer enough.

"Yes," he answered, his voice little more than a whisper.

He then fell silent again, awaiting Hermione's reply. She looked at him with pity in her eyes.

"Oh, Ron," she exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ron shrugged.

"It wouldn't help anything. I would still be in love, and Harry would still be…not gay."

"But still, you would have had someone to talk to," the bushy haired girl said softly.

"It wouldn't help, Hermione. If anything, it would probably make things worse. At least when no one knows, I can sometimes pretend that I'm not in love with him. That we're just really good friends. But now that you know, now that it's out in the open, now that I've said it, it's real. I can't take it back. It's real, and it bloody hurts."

He could feel himself tearing up, but he refused to cry.

"How long, Ron?" she wanted to know.

He shrugged again.

"I don't know. Maybe always. But I realised this summer," the redhead replied.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said earnestly.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

They stood there in silence again, until Hermione spoke up once more.

"I think you should tell him."

Ron stared at her disbelievingly.

"Are you serious? Why would I want to do that, it would ruin everything!" the redhead exclaimed.

"You don't know that Ron. And besides, he's your best friend, I think he deserves to know," Hermione said in her I-know-best voice, making Ron slightly annoyed.

"He deserves to know? What about me? He would hate me. He would probably never talk to me again!"

"He's your best friend. He loves you, Ron. He would never hate you. And I think it would be good for you too, to get this off your chest and clear the air with him," she said, voice soft again.

"There's no air to clear, Hermione. The air is clean. This, however, would fog it the fuck up!" the redhead replied, feeling slightly exasperated.

"So, can you honestly say that it is not a little uncomfortable when you are with him? That it does not control your every move, everything you say to him? That you aren't constantly trying to second guess yourself, to make sure he doesn't realise? Because I've been there, Ron. I've been exactly where you are."

Ron looked down on his shoes.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I forget sometimes."

"It's alright; it's probably for the best. But you are fooling yourself if you think your feelings for him are not affecting your relationship."

"Yeah, I know. You're right Hermione," he sighed, recognising himself in everything Hermione said.

He was growing tired of always having to watch his step around Harry, trying to figure out if this or that was too obvious, if it would mean the other boy would find out his secret. Things Ron wouldn't have thought twice about before, like patting his friend on the back or giving him a compliment, now suddenly felt like they would give his feelings away. He felt like he couldn't trust himself around Harry anymore, and it was starting to get tiresome. Plus, he realised, he couldn't keep up this entire charade with Blaise forever. And then what? Another fake boyfriend?

Ron had grown accustomed to the thought that his feelings for Harry wouldn't go away anytime soon, and Hermione had alerted him to the fact that he really didn't have a plan on how he was going to handle these emotions in the future. Was he going to lie to Harry for the rest of his life, constantly feeling jealous of whatever girl Harry decided to date, trying and failing to find a relationship of his own? He shuddered at the thought.

But the mere thought of telling Harry also made him shudder, and in his head such a confession could never go well.

"I really can't tell him," he explained to Hermione. "What if he'll never talk to me again? And my sister is in love with him, for crying out loud. It would be like stabbing her in the back, although I'm sure Harry would choose her in a heartbeat if he were ever to face the choice."

"Don't be so sure, Ron. Even if he does not feel the same way as you, he still loves you. And you've been in his life a lot longer than Ginny. But he doesn't have to choose. Just presenting him with how you feel is not forcing him to make a choice between you and Ginny. It's just letting him know where you stand," Hermione replied.

Ron sighed heavily.

"I know you're right. Dammit, why do you have to be so bloody right all the time?"

Hermione just gave a small enigmatic grin in return. She then stepped forward and enveloped the redhead in a big hug, which he happily returned. He could use some comfort right now.

"Promise me you'll talk to him soon. The sooner it's done the better," she told him as she let go.

"I'll try," Ron answered, not feeling at all certain that he was telling Hermione the truth.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: They're all JK Rowling's, I could never come up with something so wonderful. *Pouts*

10.

The first snow fell on the day of their first Hogsmeade visit for the term. Ron was wrapping the maroon scarf his mum had knitted for him around his neck, eager to get going. Hogsmeade visits used to be his favourite times of the school year, and this year was no different. He scurried down the stairs to the Common Room, skipping the last three steps in his impatience to get going.

The landing would have been perfect, had it not been for the person standing at the base of the stairs, whom Ron ungracefully tackled to the floor as he tripped over him, both of them ending up on the floor in a heap of limbs and winter clothing.

"You really know how to make an entrance," he heard Harry mumble from somewhere underneath him.

Blushing, Ron pushed himself off of Harry only to realise he was now straddling the smaller boy. Having come to the same realisation, Harry was blushing even more furiously than Ron and he quickly got to his feet. Seeing how Ron had been lying on top of Harry, the redhead was sent tumbling to the floor once again, landing on his back with an "oof".

Harry seemed at loss as to what to do for a moment, just looking down at Ron with an endearing blush covering his cheeks.

"Don't mind me," groaned Ron. "I'll just lie here and catch my breath for a moment."

This seemed to pull Harry out of his indecisiveness and he reached down, grabbing Ron's hand and pulling him to his feet with an embarrassed:

"Sorry about that, mate."

Ron stretched his back, moaning slightly.

"No worries. I guess I kind of deserved that. Where is everybody?" Ron looked around, realising the Common Room was empty except for him and Harry.

"They've left already. I was waiting behind for you," the dark haired boy answered.

"Well, that was nice of you," Ron commented, making his way to the portrait hole that lead out of their Common Room.

Harry followed him a bit hesitantly, opening his mouth as if to speak, then closing it again. He repeated this several times, before Ron turned to him with a sigh.

"What is it?"

Harry looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean 'what is it'?"

"Well, you obviously want to tell me something, so spill it," Ron replied.

Harry flashed him a nervous smile.

"It's nothing really. Ginny just asked if we could meet up at the Three Broomsticks," he uttered quickly.

Ron arched an eyebrow questioningly.

"Yeah, we could do that, I guess," the redhead said slowly, not at all understanding Harry's nervousness.

"No, not 'we' as in 'us'. She meant 'we' as in…as in just her and I," the bespectacled teen said, glancing furtively at Ron.

"Oh. Oh, I see. Did she tell you why she wanted to meet just you?" Ron questioned, while the familiar feeling of jealousy gnawed away at his insides.

"No, she said she just wanted to talk. Is that…is that okay with you?" Harry asked apprehensively.

_No!_ Ron wanted to shout. _No, it's not bloody okay. You're supposed to like me, not my sister. Me, not her!_

But he didn't say that. Of course he didn't. Instead he just took a deep breath and attempted a smile.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be? You can meet up with whomever you want. And either way, I'm meeting up with Blaise, so…"

"Oh, okay," Harry returned with an odd tone he got in his voice whenever Ron mentioned Blaise. "Well, that's great, so I guess we're both busy then."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, hoping he sounded convincing. "Yeah, it's really…really great."

The walk to Hogsmeade had been awkward. Hermione had tried to get them both to talk by constantly asking them questions about Quidditch, only getting single worded answers from the two boys, rendering her silent as well after a while.

Now he and the bushy haired girl were standing in the bustling candy shop; Honeydukes. Ron was glancing distractedly at the long rows of colourful candy, feeling too sick to his stomach to actually buy something, seeing how Harry had just left to go and meet up with Ginny.

"Okay, what's going on?" Hermione voiced in a very annoyed tone.

"Nothing," Ron mumbled.

"Yeah, and I'm Victor Krum. Seriously, what was all that? I've never felt such tension between the two of you, not even when you were fighting during the Tri-Wizard Tournament in Fourth Year," Hermione pressed on.

"Yeah, well, it's not really any of your business, Hermione," Ron retorted, feeling himself getting equally annoyed.

"Is that your new tagline - 'it's none of your business'?" she questioned, imitating Ron's deep voice.

"Ha, ha. Very mature. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be," Ron groused, suddenly recognizing sounds of condescending laughter coming from further down the aisle.

He strode off, leaving a frustrated Hermione behind. Blaise Zabini seemed to be in the middle of insulting Pansy Parkinson when Ron grabbed hold of him with a:

"We're going to the Three Broomsticks," Ron dragged the dark boy out of the store and into the small snow storm that had started to build up.

"Well, that was sudden," Blaise said, slipping slightly in the snow as Ron dragged him along towards the Three Broomsticks. "I thought you were hanging out with your precious Gryffindorks today?"

"Well, change of plans," muttered Ron, as they entered the welcoming warmth of the small and cosy pub.

He let his gaze sweep across the pub and found Harry and Ginny sitting huddled together in a secluded corner just chatting away in what seemed to be a simply friendly manner.

"Oh look, it's your sister and the Golden Boy," Blaise said, spotting the two. "You want to go over and say 'hi'? Because I really don't see why you would need me for that…"

Ron grabbed Blaise's arm once again and dragged him off to a table that granted him full view of the couple in the corner while at the same time making sure that they would not spot him. Ron sat down in one of the chairs and Blaise plopped down in the chair opposite the redhead with a look of utter confusion on his face.

"So, I guess this means you don't want to say 'hi'?"

"No, I don't want to say 'hi'. My sister and my best friend have made it perfectly clear that they do not wish to be disturbed," Ron replied curtly, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Oh, they're having the big let's-get-back-together-talk then? This could be interesting," Blaise sniggered and turned around to steal a quick glance at the couple. "Well, not much going on there yet. So are, we expecting snogging or slapping?"

"I don't know," Ron looked away from the table to place a quick order with Madam Rosmerta, the pub owner, who had been approaching their table.

"But wait, if they want to be alone, then what are you doing here? Are you chaperoning your sister?" Blaise asked curiously.

"No. She can date whoever she wants, I don't care," Ron's response was dismissive, tensing up as the couple he was staring so intently at suddenly moved their heads closer together.

"So what, you're chaperoning Potter?" Blaise asked with obvious amusement. "Oh…"

Ron did not like the unexpected change in Blaise's tone and suddenly all his attention was focused on the dark boy sitting across from him, who had realisation written all over his face.

"What do you mean, 'oh'?" Ron asked insistently.

Blaise started grinning like a mad man.

"Of course, I can't believe I didn't realise it before."

"Realise what?" Ron asked, his heart now beating wildly with anxiety.

"You're in love with Potter!" Blaise exclaimed.

"What? No I'm not!"

"Yes, you are! Oh, this is just too funny," Blaise said, as he burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Ron exasperatedly. "And will you keep it down?"

Blaise took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

"Seriously Ron, if I knew you were this much fun, I would have urged you to make up a fake crush on me much sooner," the Slytherin chuckled.

"Yeah, well, you're really making me regret it," Ron muttered.

"Aw, don't be like that, you're hurting my feelings," Blaise pouted. "But, on to more pressing matters; Potter?"

Ron tried to force the blushing away from his cheeks.

"I'm not in love with Harry," Ron mumbled quickly, glancing around to make sure no one was around to hear.

"Sure you're not," Blaise said with a roll of his eyes. "Ron, has anyone ever told you that lying isn't your strong suit?"

"Yeah," Ron answered. "But that's not the point. I'm not in love with…with him."

"So why are you glaring at your sister like you wished for her to drop dead this right moment, then?"

"I'm not, I'm just watching, you know, making sure…" Ron began to explain, regretting that he had not just played along with the entire 'overprotective brother' stunt.

"You're making sure your sister doesn't steal away the person you're in love with," Blaise stated.

"Yeah," Ron admitted, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Lying never had been his game.

"Merlin, it's all kind of incestuous, really," Blaise laughed. "You being in love with Hermione at first, then realising you're really in love with the Golden Boy, all the while he's getting it on with your sister."

"I was never really in love with Hermione, I just thought I was, and I didn't realise I was in love with Harry until after I realised I was gay, and my sister and Harry haven't really got anything on, but other than that you're pretty straight on," Ron said, surprised at how easy it was telling Blaise all of this.

There was no fear of ruining a friendship, no dire seriousness, like it had been telling Hermione. For once, Ron was happy for Blaise's inability to take anything seriously. It actually made this entire ordeal seem less foreboding.

"So, how long are you going to keep up this charade of you liking me and us being together in a kind-of-not-at-all way in front of people?" Blaise asked casually.

Ron blushed. He and Blaise had never really talked about their pretend relationship since the night of the Halloween feast, and the redhead found it rather practical to get to hang out with a new friend, while at the same time making everyone else believe that there was something going on between them.

He had never actually told anyone the status of their relationship; he simply didn't have to since everyone just assumed they were dating.

"I don't know," Ron answered truthfully.

"Because, I like you just fine, but our pretend-dating is getting in the way of me getting some around the castle. And since you're not putting out, I'm in a bit of a dry spell at the moment, and I don't do dry spells. So, maybe you should just grow some balls and tell Potter you like him, so you and I can stop pretending and just be friends, and I can go back to getting laid.

"Besides, that would hopefully stop those bigoted pea-brained Sixth Years to stop calling me names and trying to rough me up, which would mean that I would stop getting detentions for hexing their sorry arses into next week," Blaise explained, as casually as before, but Ron knew that this was Blaise admitting to something that bothered him quite a bit.

The Slytherin had mentioned the Sixth Years before, just calmly telling Ron about one of them taking a swing at him in the Slytherin Common Room. Blaise had made it into some kind of funny story about how he had made that other boy grow blisters the size of apples, which had then burst, oozing pink, glittery pus that had smelled like rotten fish. Ron had laughed about it then, but now he realised how it must feel for Blaise, not being able to feel safe in his own House and having nobody on his side. The redhead suddenly felt very privileged for having such accepting friends.

"Sorry mate," Ron mumbled. "You know, you really should tell McGonagall about that, maybe she can arrange for you to get transferred to another House or something?"

"First of all, I've told you not to call me 'mate'. I'm not your Quidditch buddy, and I happen to like my name just fine, so please feel free to use it. Secondly, telling McGonagall would mean letting them win, and I'm not going to give them the pleasure. I have as much right to be there as they have. Being gay doesn't make me any less of a Slytherin," Blaise said, with a steely tone in his voice.

Ron sometimes admired Blaise's stubbornness. The other boy never wavered in his conviction that he had the absolute right to be whoever he wanted to be, and if other people didn't like it then it was their problem. Maybe it was the Slytherin in him.

Ron, on the other hand, sometimes wondered if he would have had the guts to be as open about his sexuality as he was if his friends and family hadn't been so supportive.

He sometimes thought that if any of the people he cared the most about had reacted badly to his coming out, he probably would have just stayed in the closet, lying his way through life as to avoid disappointing those close to him. Ron could think of nothing worse than being alone and rejected.

"Yeah well, if you ever need any help, you know where to find me," Ron said earnestly.

"Yeah, I know pet," Blaise said dismissively. "But I really don't feel like feeding your Hero Complex. Speaking of which, your lover boy is making his way over here with your sister," Blaise informed, nodding his head to indicate the mirror hanging above Ron's head.

Ron looked up to see Harry making his way over through the crowd, Ginny hanging on his arm. He felt his stomach drop, he really didn't feel like talking to them right now, especially not since Ginny had a huge, self-content grin plastered all over her face that could really only mean one thing.

"Hi guys," Harry said as he reached their table, glancing furtively at Blaise. "We nearly didn't see you. Why didn't you come over and join us?"

"We didn't see you either," Ron lied, realising immediately what an obvious lie it was.

Harry just gave him a weird look, but didn't say anything about it.

"Okay. Did you get anything from Honeydukes?" Harry asked, in a light tone that even Ron could hear was forced. He cringed from the weird tension that was suddenly in the air. He and Harry had not really made up since that weird talk in the castle before the walk here, and although they hadn't really been fighting, the atmosphere between them felt as if they had.

"No, not really," Ron said, hoping he sounded more casual than Harry had. "I didn't feel like buying anything."

Ginny snorted.

"You not buying anything at Honeydukes? Hell must have frozen over."

Ron just gave his sister a cold stare, ignoring the fact that she had probably just made the joke to relieve some of the tension between the mismatched foursome.

"Yeah, well, if you'll excuse us, Blaise and I have somewhere else to be," Ron said, standing up.

"But you haven't even finished your butterbeers," Harry commented.

"I don't really feel like drinking butterbeer at the moment. I'll see you back at the castle. Come on Blaise."

Ron grabbed the darker boy by the hand and dragged him out of the pub in very much the same manner he had dragged him in there. Ginny and Harry were just left staring after them, confusion apparent on their faces.

Outside it was snowing even more than before, and Ron shivered slightly as he let go of Blaise's hand.

"What was that all about?" Blaise asked.

"Did you see the smile on Ginny's face? They're obviously together again," Ron said annoyed. "She always gets what she wants: the grades, being the captain of the Quidditch team, the friends, and every boy she's ever wanted, including Harry. She's just so bloody precious and I can't stand it!"

"Seriously, Ron, you're more dramatic than a fourteen year old girl who just got stood up by her date to the Yule Ball right now. What happened between you and Potter? The tension between you was so thick that even an emotionally retarded teaspoon could have picked up on it," Blaise asked.

"I really don't want to talk about it," Ron muttered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

Blaise shrugged.

"Fine. I'm not really that good of a listener anyway," he said. "Shall we go back to the castle? I don't think I can handle you going into another emotional hissy fit over seeing your sister with Potter again."

Ron just nodded and stayed silent all the way back to the castle, listening to Blaise going on about some cute boy in Ravenclaw he had his eyes on. They were both virtually walking snowmen as they entered the castle, and Ron's ears were going numb. He blamed Blaise as much as the cold.

"Well, this was fun, we should do this again sometime," Blaise said sarcastically as they approached the stairs leading up to the Gryffindor tower.

Ron just shrugged.

"You know, you really should just tell him how you feel, Ron," Blaise said with a sigh.

"You're starting to sound like Hermione," Ron muttered.

"Yeah, well, I've always liked her. She's feisty."

Ron just looked at the dark boy, an eyebrow cocked in surprise.

"She is. Anyway, I must be off to the library. Odds are, that cute Ravenclaw boy is there. But really, tell him. Now," Blaise said seriously.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron grumbled dismissively. "Go make googly eyes at what's-his-face now."

"I never make googly eyes, Ron Weasley."

And then, with a small hesitation, Blaise reached up and placed a small, very un-Zabini-like, peck on the redhead's cheek, making him blush. Blaise drew back with a giant grin on his face.

"See you around, pet," Blaise smiled, and then he was off.

Ron started climbing the stairs to the Gryffindor tower, a small smile playing on his face and a feeling of gratefulness at Blaise's small gesture of affection and comfort. He really couldn't have picked a better fake-crush for himself.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Please review!

11.

When Ron entered the common room, he found it empty apart from a very familiar bushy head sticking up from the sofa. He took a deep breath and approached his friend.

"Hi Hermione," he said tentatively.

She graced him with a quick 'hi', barely looking up from the book she was reading.

"You're back early," he said, dumbly.

"So are you," she replied, eyes trained on the book in her lap.

"Yeah, I…" he started, but stopped when he realised he didn't know what to say.

He slumped down next to her on the couch, releasing a big sigh.

"Hey, I'm sorry about earlier," he mumbled, finally getting her to look him in the eye.

"Yes?"

"I…I overreacted. I shouldn't have been so rude," he continued, struggling with the words.

In addition to lying, apologising wasn't really his forté either. Hermione sighed and put her book away, carefully marking the page she was on.

"I'm sorry too, I guess. I wasn't really nice to you. But it just frustrates me when you refuse to talk to me."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that."

"Apology accepted. So, what was that between you and Harry?" Hermione got straight to the point, concern evident in her voice.

Ron fell silent for a while, trying to figure out if he really wanted to tell her. Finally he decided that maybe it was good to talk to someone about it.

"I think Harry and Ginny were having the 'should we get back together' talk at the Three Broomsticks today."

"Yeah, Ginny told me they were. She was really nervous about it," Hermione replied. "Is that what caused all that tension between you and Harry?"

"Well, yeah. He told me about it before we left the castle and asked me if it was alright with me and I said that it was. But it really didn't feel that way."

"Of course it didn't. And you couldn't tell him that because he would have thought it was because you don't want him to date your sister, when really it's because you're in love with him," Hermione reasoned.

"Something like that," Ron muttered, grateful that she understood what he wasn't sure he could explain. "And yeah, I then told him that I was meeting Blaise and he seemed really weird about it."

"Yes, I've noticed that as well. He really doesn't seem too comfortable with you two seeing each other," Hermione added thoughtfully.

"Maybe he finds it disgusting," Ron said sadly.

"Don't be silly, Harry doesn't care that you're gay, you should know that by now. Maybe he just doesn't like that you're "dating" a Slytherin," Hermione said, making air quotes around the word "dating". "Or maybe he's jealous because he thinks that Blaise matters more to you than he does now."

"Oh, come on, Harry wouldn't think that. He knows that he's my best mate."

"Well, think about it. For all Harry knows, you and Blaise are dating and have feelings for each other. And you have been spending a lot of time with him lately."

"Because he's my friend," Ron explained.

"Harry doesn't know that. Seriously, Ron, you really should tell him. I think it would make things so much easier between you two," Hermione sighed.

Ron shuddered at the thought. He had been thinking about telling Harry loads of times, he almost did on one occasion, but he always chickened out in the end. The thought of Harry hating him for it was much scarier than the thought of forever having to lie to him. A rejection from Harry would break his heart.

"I know I should," he mumbled. "I just can't."

Hermione didn't say anything at this; she just reached over and squeezed his hand briefly.

People were beginning to return from Hogsmeade, and Ron decided to go up to the dorm, not really feeling like talking to anybody at the moment. He lay down on his bed with the latest issue of "All about Quidditch", but he couldn't concentrate on reading, all he could think about was Harry and Ginny and what they might be doing at the moment.

As if reading his mind, Harry entered their shared dorm room. Ron pretended to be engrossed in an article about the best way to trim your broom, following Harry's movement out of the corner of his eye as the dark haired boy sat down on his bed with a sigh. They were just sitting there, in silence, each propped up on their own bed, the occasional sigh slipping out of Harry's mouth. Eventually it was too much for Ron to bear, so he put down his magazine and turned to face his best friend.

"So, how was the date with Ginny?" he asked.

Harry blushed.

"It wasn't really a date."

"Oh," Ron said, feigning surprise. "What was it then?"

"It was…she told me she wanted to get back together," the dark haired boy mumbled.

Ron felt a dull ache in his heart.

"So, what did you answer?" he inquired, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"I…" Harry began hesitantly. "I said I didn't know. That I needed to think about it. She said I could have until Christmas, but then she wanted an answer. Said she can't wait for me forever."

"So…" Ron started, treading carefully as he knew he was poking around in business that really wasn't his to poke around in. "What will you say? I mean, you are in love with her, aren't you?"

Harry visibly winced at those words.

"I really shouldn't be talking to you about this, you're her brother," he muttered.

"Yeah, but I'm also your best friend," Ron said, feeling a small flicker of hope in his chest which he really knew had no business being there.

"I don't know if I'm in love with her. I don't even know if I know what being in love is," Harry sighed. "I mean, I like her and all that…but how do you know if you like someone in that manner?"

Harry looked at Ron with a pleading look in his eyes that urged Ron to understand what he was saying.

"I guess…I think that if you're in love with someone, like really in love, you just know," Ron answered simply.

Harry sighed again.

"Is it like that with Blaise?" he asked hesitantly.

Ron nearly cursed out loud. For a moment there he had almost forgotten about that stupid little lie.

"I guess…" he said reluctantly.

Harry seemed to pick up on the fact that Ron didn't want to talk about it, and quickly changed the subject to Quidditch, commenting on the article that Ron had been pretending to read earlier. Ron looked at his friend with a sad smile.

Was anything ever going to be easy between them again?


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I know, I know, this chapter is WAY overdue. I've had some troubles trying to figure out where this story should go after this, and I've considered maybe changing some of the following chapters to make the story go down a slightly different path. I haven't decided what to do yet, but if I decide to change the story it will take a while, seeing how I have a bit of a writer's block at the moment, and it's Christmas time (which means I'll have to cram in some writing in between all the eating and bickering with my family). Anyway, hope you'll enjoy the chapter, and please review.

Warnings: Foul language.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

12.

Ron's heart was beating madly and his mouth was dry as a desert. He was sitting on Harry's bed, anxiously waiting for his friend to return after lunch. It was the last day before Christmas break and Ron had already packed and repacked his trunk, feeling far too nervous to be able to stomach any food at the moment.

After much soul searching and encouragement from Hermione he had decided to finally tell Harry how he felt. And it was giving him bloody heart palpitations. He had waited and waited for the perfect moment but it had never presented itself, and with the ever present threat of the deadline Ginny had given Harry concerning their relationship, Ron felt it was now or never.

At first, Ron had been surprised to find Ginny's deadline (he tried to refrain from thinking of it as an ultimatum, he didn't want to think so badly of his own sister) had made him feel so stressed. There really should be nothing to it, should there? It had nothing to do with him, after all. But if he ventured further into his own feelings and thoughts, he knew that wasn't true.

There was a part of him, a small, hopeful, fluttery part, which secretly hoped Harry would choose him. Not as a romantic interest, he wouldn't dare to think that, but that the dark haired boy would choose his friendship over his sister's love. That Harry would forego Ginny to be able to keep Ron in his life, and maybe telling the other boy how he felt would do that.

Plus, Ron was really growing tired of having to pretend all the time, having to watch his steps and his tongue constantly, trying to second guess himself, feeling scared that Harry or somebody else would find out. Two people knew already, and there was no guarantee that no one else would figure it out. And Ron would rather Harry hear about it from him than from some random Gryffindor who had caught on to Ron's emotions.

Dean and Seamus had already carried their trunks down to the Common Room, and hopefully they wouldn't return to their dorm, giving Ron and Harry the space to talk in private.

Ron got off the bed for the nth time in five minutes and started pacing across the room in an attempt to calm his nerves. He was so engrossed in his own pacing that he jumped in surprise to see Harry entering the room.

"Hi mate," Harry greeted. "What's the matter? You seem a bit jittery."

Ron drew a deep breath. It's now or never, he reminded himself.

"Harry," he began, voice a bit shaky. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Oh?" Harry sat down on his bed, looking expectantly at his friend. "What is it?"

Ron started pacing again, trying to find out a good way to start.

"So yeah, I really don't know where to start with this," Ron rushed. "It's kind of a big deal and…and I don't really know how you'll react."

Ron could feel his palms getting sweaty as he continued to stride back and forth across the room, Harry's eyes trained on him.

"I'm afraid you'll…you'll hate me or never want to talk to me again or…"

Suddenly Harry was in front of him, blocking his path. Ron made to turn, not really wanting to face the other boy right now, but Harry grabbed his shoulders, keeping him in place.

"Ron, calm down. I'm sure it's not that bad. You're my best mate, and I doubt there's anything you could say that would make me stop talking to you."

Ron could not for his life figure out what possessed him to do what he did next. Maybe it was Harry's reassuring smile, or his soothing voice, or the way his hands held Ron in place, keeping him rooted.

Whatever it was, it made Ron lunge forward, closing the distance between them and press his lips against Harry's. For a moment Harry just stood there, seemingly frozen to the spot. Then, for the smallest of seconds, Ron thought he felt Harry returning the kiss. Then all of a sudden the dark haired teen was at the other side of the room.

"What…the HELL…was that?" Harry asked, confusion obvious in his voice. "Why did you do that?"

For a moment Ron considered just fleeing the scene, running out of the dorm and away from Hogwarts, never to return, forgetting all about what had just happened and all about Harry. But the look in Harry's eyes made him abandon that plan, realising that he had to tell Harry the truth. He owed him that much, seeing how he had just kissed him.

"Harry, I…I'm in love with you," Ron's voice was quiet.

"You're what?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I'm in love with you," Ron repeated, knowing very well that Harry had heard him fine the first time.

"But…how? I mean…what about Blaise?"

"I was never really in love with Blaise. I was just so afraid that you were going to find out who I really was in love with, so I…I lied."

"You lied?"

"Yeah," Ron admitted, running a hand through his hair. "It was you all along, Harry."

Harry fell silent, staring at Ron with an unreadable expression on his face. Ron twisted his hands nervously awaiting a reaction from Harry. But nothing came.

"Harry?" Ron asked carefully, when he couldn't stand the silence anymore.

Harry jolted back a little, almost as if he was startled by Ron's presence. Then a sudden look of anger crossed his face.

"Why are you telling me this now?" he asked heatedly. "I mean, you've obviously felt this way for quite some time… How long exactly?"

"I don't know," Ron mumbled, but the look on Harry's face told him that it wasn't a satisfactory answer. "Since this summer?" the redhead added hesitantly.

"You've felt this way since…for fucking months, and you haven't bothered to tell me?"

"I tried to…" Ron started, but Harry interrupted him.

"Yeah, well, you didn't, did you? You just didn't tell me, for months, and you made me believe that you and that…and that _git_ had something together, and you never bothered to tell me… Why now, Ron? You know what Ginny has asked of me, and now you…"

"I'm not asking anything from you," Ron said quickly. "I don't expect you to…do anything."

"Yeah, well it doesn't fucking work like that, does it, Ron?"

Harry had got up from the bed and started pacing, very much like Ron had done just minutes earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and Ron felt the situation turning into what he had dreaded the most.

"It doesn't work like that," Harry repeated. "You can't just tell me something like that and expect nothing to happen, expect everything to be the same. You can't just bloody kiss me and then…You've…you've changed everything. Everything!"

Harry stopped for a moment, looking directly at Ron.

"I'm sorry," Ron whispered brokenly, eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I just…I just thought you should know."

"Yeah, well now I know," Harry snarled. "What now?"

"I don't know," Ron's voice shook.

"Yeah, you said that. I just…I just…I don't even know. This is all…I don't know. You…I…I don't understand," Harry rambled, starting to sound more flustered than angry now. "Fuck, Ron! I just…why? Why me?"

"I don't know," Ron said again, choking on the words.

"You know what? I just can't…do this right now. I really can't. I…bye Ron."

With that Harry left the room, leaving a more than crestfallen Ron behind.

Hermione entered the room ten minutes later asking for Harry's trunk only to find Ron curled up on the bed, eyes red rimmed and chest aching.

He felt as if his heart was crushed to smithereens.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner. I've been debating what path to go down with this story, and the path I've chosen meant I had to rewrite some chapters, which took a while, seeing how inspiration has decided to evade me lately. But now I'm back! Hope you'll enjoy the chapter, and thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you're friggin' awesome.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

13.

Ron was waiting.

He had been waiting for what felt like forever, but in reality it had only been a little over a week. He was waiting for Harry.

The plan had been for the dark haired boy to just join Ron and Ginny and go directly to the Burrow, but Harry had been nowhere to be seen on the Hogwarts Express. Once on the platform they had received an owl, addressed to Mrs Weasley, with a letter from Harry apologising for not showing up with the reason that he had decided to spend some time with Teddy and Mrs Andromeda Tonks, and that he would come over on Christmas eve. Ron had felt like crying again, but he also felt kind of relieved that he was going home to the Burrow to be with his family, and he promised himself to at least try to have a nice Christmas. But still, he waited.

Ginny waited too. He could see it. She just walked about the house, taking part in all the usual family activities, but her heart wasn't really in it. Her mind constantly seemed to be elsewhere, and Ron knew where it was.

His sister expectantly asked their mother if there had been any mail for her every single morning and she looked equally downcast every time Mrs Weasley informed her no. In a way, Ron envied Ginny. There was a kind of nervous excitement around her that Ron could not relate to. He just felt hurt. All he really could hope for was that he had not damaged his and Harry's friendship forever. But he had a feeling that it might have, and it scared him.

Hermione had tried to encourage him, saying that Harry would come around, that he would get over it, but Ron was not convinced. She had given him a long hug before she had gone off with her parents.

Blaise had shared a compartment with him and Hermione, and although he had sensed that something was wrong, he had neither dared nor cared to ask, for which Ron was grateful. Instead the dark boy had spent the entire trip chatting away with Hermione, and if Ron hadn't felt as if his heart had just been ripped out of his chest, he would have been happy that his two friends were getting along so well.

On the platform, Blaise had given his hand a small but reassuring squeeze and Ron was afraid that he was going to kiss his cheek again which would make for a Christmas filled with merciless teasing, seeing how the twins were watching from a distance. But Blaise just smiled at him.

"You have a good Christmas, alright?" he had said before walking off to meet up with his mother waiting impatiently for him with her latest husband, who Blaise had informed Ron was the eighth in the order.

Although there had been nothing compromising going on between him and Blaise at the platform, the twins exchanged gleeful looks with each other as Ron approached but he hadn't really cared. All he could think about was Harry.

On the morning of the day Harry had said he would be arriving, Ron was a wreck. Part of him wished that he would never have to see Harry again, and another part, the larger part, couldn't wait to see him to find out just how much he had messed up their relationship. If there was some way for Ron to take it all back, he would, but it was too late. It was all out there. So he waited.

It was nearly time for dinner when there was a knock on the door. Both Ginny and Ron stopped what they were doing and stared out of the kitchen towards the door, neither of them making a move to go open it. Mrs Weasley gave her two youngest children a strange look and opened the door to come upon a beaming Harry who stepped through the door frame.

"Harry! It's so good to see you. I hope the journey was alright, you really should have taken the floo network, you know," she said while pulling him into a warm hug.

"That's alright, Mrs Weasley, you know I prefer flying," Harry said with a smile that made Ron's chipped heart skip a beat.

"Yes, but it must have been so cold, and just because You-Know-Who is gone doesn't mean that it's safe out there," Mrs Weasley scolded in a warm tone.

"I had Mrs Tonks perform both a warming charm and a shielding spell on me before I left, so there's really no need to worry," Harry interjected, dropping his trunk on to the floor and then removing his cloak.

He followed Mrs Weasley into the kitchen where Ron and Ginny were waiting nervously. Harry smiled shyly, first at Ginny, then at Ron.

"Er, hi," he said a bit uncomfortably, but Ron didn't care.

That small smile had made his heart flutter and he thought that maybe, just maybe, things were going to be alright between him and Harry.

Ron didn't know what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it. He had expected yelling and shouting and tantrums, or maybe some kind of acceptance. Maybe even an apology, even though he did not really think he deserved one. But he most certainly hadn't expected Harry to just silently slip away with Ginny after dinner.

That was two hours ago. Ron had tried to distract himself in every imaginable way since then, but his thoughts kept returning to why Harry would have left with Ginny, and what they might be doing.

The redhead knew he shouldn't be so surprised. After all, Harry and his sister had been dating, and Ron had up until quite recently been entirely convinced that Harry was in love with Ginny. But then there had been that night, when Harry had told him that he really didn't know if he was in love with Ginny or not and…that had to mean something, right?

No matter how many times he turned and twisted the issue in his mind, he just couldn't make any sense of it. Or what it meant to him and Harry. Was Harry mad at him, disgusted by him, indifferent, what? Ron had bloody kissed him and professed his love for him, that kind of thing was not something you ignored, was it?

Ron groaned and let himself fall onto his bed. This was really not how he would have this night go. What was Harry doing?

The question was answered next morning. Harry's bed had been empty when Ron awoke after a night of restless sleeping, unanswered questions constantly piercing his slumber. He was gloomily gnawing away at a piece of toast, not really in the mood for eating but doing it simply out of a force of habit, when Harry and Ginny descended the stairs to their kitchen, hands interlocked.

Mrs Weasley let out a delighted squeal, followed by the twins' gleeful cackle, as she got up to greet them both with a big hug.

Ron had dropped his toast, no longer even habitually hungry since an enormous empty space now occupied the place where his stomach used to be. His throat constricted making it hard to breathe, and Harry's shy smile at Mrs Weasley's obvious delight at the couple's reunion felt like daggers piercing through Ron's heart. At a loss for what else to do, he silently left the kitchen in the turmoil that Harry and Ginny's revelation had caused.

The frosted grass made the soles of his bare feet hurt as he made his way across the Burrow's back yard, but it was a welcome contrast to the dull ache in his chest. He made his way to the big oak, leaning his back against it while sliding to the ground, his hands grasping at the crisp vegetation beneath it as if it was the only thing keeping him rooted.

So, this was it then. Harry had made his choice. Ron knew he shouldn't feel surprised, that he had no right to feel betrayed, but he made no attempt at stopping those emotions as they coursed through him. _Why?_ He wondered. _Why did Harry have to do this to him?_

A small voice of what Ron guessed was reason argued that Harry hadn't really done anything to him, that he had just chosen to be with Ginny because he truly loved her, but Ron was not in the mood for reason to meddle with his sense of indignation, since it felt like indignation was the only thing keeping him from crying his eyes out at the moment.

The back door of the Burrow flung open, and a dark haired boy started to make his way over to where Ron was sitting.

_Great_, Ron thought to himself, _just what I need right now_.

Harry approached him hesitantly, as if he was unsure of what to do or say. Which was probably true; Harry must have realised that he had just broken Ron's heart with that little scene in there.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of the other boy's mouth.

"What for?" Ron asked, not even trying to conceal the bitterness in his voice.

"For…You know what for. I should have told you," Harry said, taking a step closer to his friend.

"You have every right to do whatever you like with my sister. I can't stop you."

"Still…"

"I just find it weird, that just a few weeks ago, you told me you didn't really know if you were in love with her, and now…this?"

"Ron, please don't do this," Harry pleaded.

"Don't do what, Harry?" Ron sneered, standing up. "It's a perfectly reasonable question."

Harry sighed heavily.

"Look, I know you're hurting, but…I just hoped we could be friends, despite all this. You're still my best friend."

"Of course," Ron uttered through a small smile, before walking back to the Burrow and letting the tears fall.

Harry turned and looked at Ron walking away, knowing that something had broken between the two.

Later in the afternoon, Harry silently slipped into Ron's room.

"You missed lunch," he said tentatively to the figure curled up under the blankets in the bed.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't really hungry," Ron replied, his voice a bit hoarse from crying.

He felt the bed shift a bit as Harry sat down on the edge of it.

"Ron, I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say…" Harry began.

Ron sat up abruptly, cutting off whatever the dark haired boy intended to say.

"Harry, sorry isn't really going to make this alright," the redhead interjected, the edge of anger disappearing from his voice.

"I know. But I really want things to be good between us. I mean just because I'm…with Ginny, doesn't mean I don't want you as a friend...and for things between us to go back to normal."

The look in those green eyes was so earnest it made Ron's heart ache in an entirely different sort of way. The gaze was stained with some other emotion as well. Hurt, sadness? Ron really couldn't tell.

"Look, Harry, I don't know if…"

Ron's voice trailed off. What was worse, really? Having Harry in his life, although he was with Ginny, or not having Harry in his life at all? Sure, seeing the dark haired boy with Ginny would hurt like hell, but hopefully, the pain would fade. Life without Harry altogether just seemed like a wasted life.

"I'll try," Ron sighed. "I mean, we should try. To be friends, go back to how we were. It has worked so far, hasn't it?"

He even managed a crooked grin. Harry beamed back at him.

"I…that's great."

The bespectacled teen leaned in and gave Ron's arm a slight squeeze, and the redhead rather wished he hadn't, since his stomach's familiar flutter at the touch had never felt more unwelcome.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Chapter 14, yay! I think I'm finally back on track with this story (fingers crossed), and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapters, makes me soooooo happy. Seriously. It's like drugs to me.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warnings: Yes, there is some foul language.

14.

The train ride back to Hogwarts proved to be even more horrible than the train ride back home had been, a feat Ron had thought impossible. Harry and Ginny were sitting across from him holding hands and every now and then, Ginny would reach out and flatten Harry's hair. She did this almost unconsciously, as if it was something so natural for her she didn't even have to think about it. And Ron hated it.

Ron knew he really shouldn't hold a grudge against his sister, it wasn't her fault that he wished with every fibre of his being that he could be in her place, that he could be the one to touch Harry without giving it a second thought. Instead, he just had to endure the entire show while gritting his teeth and trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Harry seemed to find Ginny's small displays of affection a bit embarrassing, and he often ruffled his hair whenever the redhead had made her poor attempts at taming it. There was this weird tension in the air that Ginny didn't seem to notice and Ron couldn't help but think that the raven haired boy probably wished for Ron to be somewhere else entirely.

The redhead tried to tell himself that he really had no business being jealous, but still it kept gnawing away at his insides whenever Ginny touched Harry, which was constantly.

Hermione was unhappily trapped in the middle of this bizarre love triangle and she altered between giving Ron pitiful glances and smiling widely at the newly re-formed couple.

When Ginny leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on the corner of Harry's mouth, Ron felt like someone had punched the air out of him. He abruptly stood up.

"I'm going to buy some sweets," he muttered, quickly leaving the compartment before anyone could offer to go with him.

He started to walk along the train's corridor, not really in the mood for chocolate but nonetheless searching for the tea trolley. He was stopped on his quest by a certain Blaise Zabini, who snuck up behind him, whispering "_hello, pet_" into his ear, close enough for the warm breath to ghost over Ron's neck and make him shiver. He turned around to face the grinning teen, rolling his eyes and refusing to return the smile

"Hi Blaise," he said a bit more sullenly than he had intended. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What? Can't a guy say hello to his fake boyfriend anymore?" Blaise asked innocently.

"You just did. And I think you will be happy to hear that there's no need to keep up our little charade any more," Ron said bitterly.

"Ah, so you finally told Pot…him," Blaise amended after a pointed look from Ron. "So… Judging from your sullen look I guess it didn't go to well."

Ron sensed some compassion in Blaise's voice, but it was spiked with curiosity and Ron really didn't feel like pouring his heart out at the moment.

"No, it didn't, and that's all I'm telling you," Ron said sharply.

Blaise seemed to gauge Ron's reaction, trying to decide whether it would be worth pressing the matter or not. Then he gave a dismissive shrug and plowed on.

"Yeah, well, you know I'm not much of a listener anyway," Blaise replied. "Christmas was horrible, by the way, thanks for asking," he continued.

"Oh yeah. How so?" Ron asked, thankful for the distraction.

"Well, let's just say, my dear mother does know how to pick them. At least I'm old enough for them to stop trying to get me to call them 'dad'. This last one, though, he tried to have a bonding session with me, trying to ask me if there was a special lady in my life. I thought I had him thrown when I told him I was gay, but no, he just kept on prodding. Finally I told him that no, I didn't have a boyfriend, but I had a few steady fucks around the castle.

"That shut him up, but then my mother just gave me this 'I'm so disappointed in you, Blaise' look, and that was it. Whatever Christmas spirit the firewhiskey had managed to conjure into that Merlin-forsaken house I call home, vanished and I spent the rest of the holiday in my traditional sulk mood, avoiding my dear mother like the plague. Seriously, it felt like being thirteen again, only without the joy of discovering masturbation."

Ron chuckled lightly, grateful for Blaise's ability to make himself and his own problems the centre of attention. And he actually enjoyed hearing Blaise telling him all this. The redhead didn't really know anything about the Slytherin's mother and all her late husbands, and it was actually kind of refreshing to get to hear about someone else's dysfunctional family for a change.

Ron's train of thought was interrupted by a massive shoulder colliding into his, making him stagger backwards slightly.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" Ron exclaimed.

"You watch where you're going, poof," a compact looking boy said threateningly.

Next to Ron Blaise had tensed up.

"What's your problem, Bole?" Blaise sneered at the other boy and his companion, a tall muscled boy with a grim facial expression. "Except for not knowing what end to wipe when you've been to the lavatory."

"You're my problem, faggot," the short boy, Bole, said. "I want you and your little boyfriend here to get out of my face."

"That would be my pleasure, seeing how your face is so ugly even your pimples are trying to escape," Blaise retorted.

Bole seized Blaise by his robes and roughly pushed him up against the train windows.

"Listen, you fucking fag…"

Before he got any further, Ron hit them both with a _petrificus totalus_ and they clattered to the floor with loud thuds. Blaise massaged his neck with a painful grimace and glanced at the two boys on the floor.

"That actually hurt, you big buffoon," Blaise groused to the motionless Bole, giving his shin a hard kick.

He looked over to Ron while straightening his robes.

"Thanks for the help, pet. Although I could have managed them on my own."

"I'm sure you could have, but I couldn't let you have all the fun," Ron smirked. "Delightful creatures, they are. Are they always like this?"

"Pretty much. Sometimes they throw a "queer" in as well though, just to mix things up a little, but generally this was a quite accurate display of their usual repertoire. Generally I would have hexed them before they got their hands on me, but I guess it's good for the relationship to still allow yourself to be surprised once in a while, don't you think?"

Blaise's voice was light but Ron could sense a tension underneath it all, telling him that Blaise was not as untouched by this as he let on. He decided not to comment on it though, but allowed himself to feel lucky to be surrounded by such accepting people in the middle of all the heart ache.

"Well, I on the other hand could go for some chocolate frogs," Ron shrugged. "Shall we?" Ron held out his arm.

"Sure," Blaise said linking his arm through Ron's. "These two are no fun anyway."

With a final glance at the two Slytherins, they made their way towards the tea trolley.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: So, this story is not being abandoned or put on hiatus or anything, I've just been busy writing my bloody thesis, which proved to be much more difficult and time consuming than I'd originally thought (I have a tendency to grossly overestimate my academic abilities). This means that chapters will be getting out there a bit slower than usual, for which I apologise sincerely. Anyway, thanks for being patient with me, and thanks for the reviews, they make me all warm and fuzzy inside.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be.

15.

"So, I guess Harry went for the Weasley with the vagina, huh?"

It was later that night and Ron had just left the Great Hall early, knowing he could not endure one more minute of having to watch Harry and Ginny steal glances of each other and holding hands under the table in a not-at-all discreet way, when Blaise caught up to him.

"Yeah," Ron huffed.

"That must suck," Blaise commented conversationally.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah, you keep saying that, but I don't get why. The boy you're in love with just chose your sister over you. You must have some steam you need to let off," the dark boy said, panting slightly from trying to keep up with Ron.

"Thank you for reminding me," the redhead mumbled.

"Yeah, well, it's the truth. Will you slow down a bit? You're going to give me a heart attack."

"No one's forcing you to follow me around, Zabini," Ron snapped.

"Oh, so we're back to last names, are we now?" Blaise sneered. "Seriously, slow down!"

Ron felt a hand close around his wrist and he was yanked into a standstill. He realised he was slightly out of breath, annoyance and anger having driven him to get as far away from Harry and Ginny as quickly as possible.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, trying to pull his hand from Blaise's grip, but the other boy just held on tighter.

"I think it's called trying to be a good friend," the Slytherin scoffed.

"Yeah, well, stop it. It doesn't suit you."

"Sure. You can deflect all you want, but we both know it's not me you're mad at, Ron," Blaise said, finally letting go of Ron.

"What do you want me to say, then? That it hurts like fuck? That I'm so jealous of my own sister that I don't know what to do with myself? That I would do anything to be in her place? It's so fucking painful to watch them, and I just want to hex Ginny halfway around the world. She's my bloody sister and I'm not supposed to think such…such vile things about her, but I can't stop myself. And it just makes everything so much worse. Is that what you want to hear, Blaise?"

"Well, it's a start," the other boy sighed as he leaned against the wall. "Listen, I know you're hurting and I know you're angry, and I know you have to get it out somehow. You can't talk to Harry or Hermione, because that would be awkward, and only crazy people talk to themselves, so I'm offering to be your confidant. Or a bin."

"Why would you do that? You're not really that good of a listener, or so you keep telling me."

"Well, there's a first time for everything. And I figure you'd be good target practice seeing how you're practically brimming with angst. Plus, I don't know if you've noticed, but I kind of enjoy your company. Against better judgement, I know, but Merlin help me, you're a delightful little Gryffindork."

This made Ron smile, despite himself.

"Er…thanks?"

"You're welcome. But don't tell anyone about this. I have an image to live up to, after all."

"Yeah, right. Your days as the Slytherin Prince are over, Zabini. You're mortal like the rest of us now."

"Oh, please. Draco was the prince. I always thought of myself as the queen."

To say that things between Harry and Ron were awkward would have been a massive understatement. The two friends could hardly find anything to talk about that didn't end in uncomfortable silences and unspoken words. Even Quidditch was off limits, seeing how Ginny was the Captain now, which could possibly lead to touching upon the subject of hers and Harry's relationship, which, in its turn, alluded to Ron's feelings for Harry.

Conversations were stilted at best, and would have been virtually non-existent if it hadn't been for Hermione and her patient cruising in the minefield that was interacting with her two best friends. No topic was too mundane for her to try to involve the two boys in and Ron was forever grateful, since it meant that he, at least, got to have some interaction with Harry this way.

It hadn't taken long for Ron to realise that trying to get rid of his feelings for Harry by sheer willpower was not going to work. All he could really hope for, was that time would make it all go away, but this didn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

In the meantime, he clung to every distraction he could find. He spent long and tedious hours in the library studying with Hermione, with the side-effect of getting better grades than ever. He sat in the hallways with Blaise, listening to the Slytherin's snide remarks about people walking by, and laughing at the other boy's outrageous stories about his family. He took walks with Luna, happily letting her blabber about the new scoops her father had found about some unimaginable creature, fill his head, temporarily pushing all thoughts of Harry aside.

He engaged himself in Seamus' quest to find Dean a girlfriend for a while, but stopped when he realised Dean had his eyes set on a certain bushy-haired friend of his, who didn't seem entirely unreceptive to the artistic boy's fumbling advances. Ron didn't want to meddle in that, seeing how Hermione seemed genuinely happy every time Dean walked over to talk to her.

He even tried to check out what other goods Hogwarts had to offer in the boys' department, but soon realised he kept comparing each and every one of them to Harry, which did nothing to elevate his mood, seeing how no one could compare to Harry.

The only positive outcome out of all this mess, was that it made a great improvement to Ron's Quidditch skills, seeing how he could funnel all the anger, disappointment and annoyance into his playing. He had actually gotten a letter, after their last game against Slytherin, from a fourth year boy in Hufflepuff professing his undying love for Ron. Ron had thought it to be kind of sweet, until he found himself having to turn the boy down when he asked Ron for date, reducing the Hufflepuff to a sobbing wreck that the redhead then awkwardly had to comfort, while a sniggering Blaise watched on.

All in all, the world didn't end, and although Ron felt a distinct ache in his chest every time he saw Harry and Ginny together, he didn't fall apart.

"You did really good at Quidditch practice today," Ginny said, as she took the seat next to Ron at dinner time.

"Thank you," Ron muttered, looking over her shoulder. "Where's loverboy?" He then asked, a bit more sullenly than he had intended.

Ginny just rolled her eyes.

"We're not joined at the hip, Ron. And I've actually been meaning to ask you: what's the matter with you and Harry? You two have been acting weird around each other since Christmas."

"It's nothing," Ron replied, turning his attention to his food in the hope that this would discourage Ginny from pushing the subject further.

"It's not 'nothing'. You barely speak to each other anymore. Did something happen between you?"

"Why don't you ask your boyfriend about it?"

Ron realised his voice had grown hostile, but he didn't care. Ginny had no right poking about in his business.

"I already did. He also said it's nothing."

"Yeah, well maybe it is nothing then. Maybe you're imagining things."

"Or maybe you two are unable to handle a conflict like adults. Seriously, I just want to help. You two are best friends, you shouldn't behave like this. Did you have a fight, or something?"

"Maybe we just grew apart. People do, you know."

"I know they do. But this was so sudden. It just seemed to change overnight. Really, Ron, you can talk to me. I won't tell Harry."

"Oh, you won't, will you?" Ron huffed.

"No, I won't. Harry may be my boyfriend, but I'm still your sister. You can talk to me, you know," Ginny said, sounding a bit annoyed. But then her facial expression softened. "This doesn't have anything to do with you being gay, does it? I mean, I know he had some trouble with it to start with, but he really couldn't care less now…"

"What did you say?" Ron asked, attention fully on his sister now.

"I said that it doesn't bother him anymore."

"Anymore, huh? So he did have a problem with it before?"

Ginny suddenly looked a bit uneasy.

"Well, I mean, it took him a while to get used to it, but I mean…he's fine with it now," she said nervously.

Harry really couldn't have chosen a worse time to seat himself at the table.

"So, you have a problem with my sexuality, do you?" Ron sneered at Harry.

The dark haired boy looked a bit taken aback.

"What? No! You know I don't care," he said.

"Yeah, well, according to Ginny here, that hasn't always been the case, has it?"

Harry looked over at his girlfriend.

"What did you tell him?" Harry asked, a little peeved.

"Oh, just that you weren't really comfortable with me being gay at the beginning," Ron answered in his sister's place.

Harry suddenly looked a bit guilty, and perhaps a little nervous.

"Ron, listen, it wasn't like that…" Harry began.

"So, was it that you found it disgusting, was that it? You thought I was some kind of homo freak? Or were you afraid I might jump you in the shower?"

Ron didn't know when he had stood up, or when the people closest to him had fallen silent, but he wasn't deterred.

"Because, as I recall it, you told me you were perfectly fine with it. But now I find out you've been talking to my sister about it behind my back…"

"Listen, Ron, that's not what I…" Harry tried to interject, but Ron just raised his voice further.

"No, you listen, Harry. I don't need your approval and if you're not okay with me being gay, then you can just stay the hell away from me, you hear that?"

A warm hand closed itself around Ron's wrist, forcefully dragging him away from the table.

"Alright, pet, that was quite the performance, but the show's over so take a bow and let's leave this place," Blaise muttered in his ear as he pulled the redhead out of the Great Hall.

As soon as they reached the hallways outside, Ron yanked his hand free from the Blaise' grip.

"What the hell was that for?" Ron asked heatedly.

"Well, firstly, causing a scene in the middle of dinner ceased to be acceptable the minute you turned fifteen. And secondly, I think you were about to say some things you'd regret to the golden boy," Blaise answered.

"So, why do you care?" the redhead scoffed.

"I don't really. But you would, later, and I have enough of your moping as it is without you going and making it worse because Potter had a second of being a bigoted arsehole. It happens to the best of them, and Potter is far from the best," the Slytherin explained.

"So what, I'm just supposed to let it all go?"

"Nope, I just think it would be better if you talked about it when you are not having a case of the Drama Queen in the middle of dinner."

Ron let out an annoyed huff.

"Sometimes I feel like you're just a more annoying version of Hermione, and I didn't think it got more annoying than her."

"Well, someone has to keep a level head when you spin off on one of your tantrums," Blaise responded, looking annoyingly smug with himself.

"That's exactly what she would say," Ron said, turning on his heels and leaving the Slytherin behind, knowing very well that he was right.

Harry was actually waiting for him when Ron returned from his little discussion with Blaise. The redhead had taken an extra walk around the castle to calm his temper before returning to the Gryffindor Tower, knowing very well that he would have to face Harry when he did so.

Seeing the dark haired boy made Ron's anger flare up again, but he knew it wasn't really because Harry had had a problem with Ron being gay. It was everything but that.

The bespectacled teen looked nervous as he approached his friend.

"Look, Ron, about what Ginny said…" Harry began, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard, searching Ron's face for permission to continue.

Ron just nodded slightly.

"I mean, yes, when you first told me you were gay I kind of… freaked out for a moment. I didn't want you to see that so I told you everything was fine, because I didn't want you to think that…"

"That you found me disgusting?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry visibly winced at those words, but then he just sighed.

"Yeah, I guess that was it. Because, you see, it was never like that. I can't really explain it but… We've known each other for…well, for a long time, and you were my first friend and we've done everything together and I thought… I thought I knew everything there was to know about you, and it felt nice, it felt…safe. But then you tell me there's this part of you that I had no idea existed and it kind of…it kind of threw me, for some reason. I think I kind of felt left out, which is stupid, but, you know, it's how I felt."

Both of Ron's eyebrows had now disappeared into his fiery curls as he listened to Harry's confession. It was not so much what he said as the way he said it. Harry and Ron's relationship had never been the best when it came to sharing emotions, and every attempt at it tended to end up in "er's" and awkward silences. But here Harry was, giving him a rather eloquent and honest declaration of his emotions, and to Ron it felt kind of weird. Not at all in a bad way though, just very much outside the box of their friendship. Since when had Harry grown up?

Ron's silence seemed to make Harry even more nervous, as he released a sigh and adjusted his glasses in that "this-situation-is-making-me-uncomfortable" way.

"I'm not making any sense, am I? I just…I just wanted you to know that I've never, never, found you disgusting or anything like that. I could never…"

"It's alright Harry, I get it," the redhead interrupted, not ready to take anymore of Harry's mature insights right now.

"You do?" Harry questioned, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," Ron shrugged. "I guess it's kind of how I got mad when you were chosen as one of the champions in the Triwizard Tournament. That made me feel left out and this is…really not similar to that in any way, really, but I just…I think I get it."

Whatever articulateness had struck Harry, it obviously hadn't rubbed off on Ron. But none of that really mattered when Harry shot him a beaming smile that had the redhead's stomach doing somersaults he didn't even try to supress.

"Brilliant. Hey mate, you want to play some chess with me? Last night I got defeated by Seamus, and it was downright humiliating, so I could really use the practice..." Harry said, letting his hand rest on Ron's shoulder for the shortest of moments.

And even though it sent electric currents shivering down Ron's spine, it also made him hopeful that maybe this being-friends-thing would work after all.

If only he'd known…


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Yes, I've risen from the dead (if you by "dead" mean "writing my thesis"). I'm as always grateful for all the reviews and all who have put this story as a favourite or on story alert. Thank you so much! So, let's hope there's enough people still here, because I'm getting this show on the road again.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

16.

Harry and Ron's relationship actually improved after that night. Their conversations flowed more freely, there was friendly banter and, on rare occasions, Harry would even bring up things that troubled him. The dark haired boy also seemed to make a conscious effort not to be too couple-y with Ginny whenever Ron was around. There was never any kissing or cuddling, barely even handholding, for which Ron was grateful, since not having to supress impulses of murdering your own sister or your best friend whenever you were around them, made the transition back to normal much easier.

Hermione was thrilled at no longer having to make up stilted monologues about the most random things, although this later turned into slight annoyance when she realised that this also meant their study motivation was back to its usual level. She sighed, _you can't have it all._

Even though Ron was delighted at having Harry back as a friend, he was also conflicted, seeing how getting over your feelings for your best friend was much harder when said best friend was always around you, smiling at you and laughing with you and touching you.

Ron didn't know if he just hadn't noticed before, but Harry always seemed to be touching him. Not in a romantic, huggy-kissy kind of way, but he was constantly brushing against him when they were studying, or casually bumping against him when they walked down the hallway, or briefly resting his hand on Ron's shoulder when they were joking around.

It was driving Ron bloody mad, since it made his body react in all the ways it absolutely shouldn't react, and making him terrified that Harry would notice.

"I swear, if he doesn't stop it, I will just bloody jump him one of these days," Ron groaned to Blaise one night at dinner.

The two boys had decided to simply take their dinner elsewhere some nights so they could eat together, seeing how interaction between Slytherin and the other Houses was still viewed upon with suspicion by their respective peers.

"Maybe you should," Blaise shrugged, pushing his food around the plate with his fork. Blaise was as picky with his food as Ron was keen, and it never ceased to amaze the redhead how someone could turn down food just because it didn't appeal to their particular taste.

"Yeah, that would go down well," Ron scoffed, masticated pieces of potatoes flying out of his mouth.

"Seriously, pet, manners," the Slytherin sighed with a disgusted look on his face.

"Whatever," Ron said with a roll of his eyes, but nonetheless swallowed the food in his mouth before he continued. "When I jumped him before, he was just my best friend. Now he's my best friend and my sister's boyfriend, it makes for all kinds of awkward."

"You won't jump him though, will you? It's just talk. You will go on pretending everything's just fine and dandy between you and keep all your frustrations bottled up until you crawl into bed at night, putting silencing charms up around your bed so Golden Boy won't catch on to your dirty little fantasies," Blaise muttered, stabbing at a piece of chicken with his fork.

"Well, don't sugar-coat it for me," Ron said, eyebrows raised. "What's gotten your knickers in a twist?"

"Oh, funny, a girl's underwear-joke for the faggot. Got any more of those lying around, because I'd definitely like to hear them."

Blaise's voice dripped with venom, and Ron could almost hear his Slytherin-façade slamming into place.

"Something tells me this has less to do with me wanting to jump Harry and more to do with you. What happened?" Ron asked.

"Well, aren't you quite the mind reader? Yes, this actually has nothing to do with you pining after Potter. It's not like the world revolves around you, Ron."

"Ditto, but it never seemed to have stopped you from believing so," Ron replied, earning a small smirk from Blaise.

"It's those idiots, Bole and Viridian. They seem set on making me miserable by showing their ugly faces wherever I happen to be at the moment. It's really getting tiresome, and even though I'm getting really good at minor hexes, it's keeping me from more important stuff, like chatting up that cute Ravenclaw seventh year."

Blaise said this with his I'm-doing-my-best-to-sound-really-nonchalant-so-you'll-get-the-impression-that-it-doesn't-really-bother-me voice, which Ron had learned to see right through by now. He had also learned that it was best just to ignore Blaise's antics and respond as though he had actually made a heartfelt confession about something that really bothered him.

"I keep telling you that you should talk to McGonagall about it. They really shouldn't get away with being prejudiced, violent bastards, you know."

"And I keep telling you, they're not getting away with anything," Blaise scoffed. "I'm dealing with it, they have just been particularly annoying lately, that's all."

The redhead just rolled his eyes.

"Have it your way then."

"Yes. I will," the Slytherin responded, drawing a deep breath and meeting Ron's gaze. "So, Golden Boy… He's been overly touchy-feely lately?"

Ron sighed slightly at Blaise's change of subject, but decided to go with it out of the need to vent his frustration and save Blaise any embarrassment.

"Yes! And I don't know what to do about it. I mean, I can't really just tell him, 'Hey Harry, having physical contact with you makes me all hot and bothered, so can you please stop it', can I now?"

The Slytherin smirked slightly.

"It would probably be the most effective way to get him to stop though. And I bet the look on his face would be priceless."

"You're not exactly helping here," Ron muttered.

"Oh, was that what I was supposed to be doing? Sorry, this supportive-friend thing is still kind of confusing to me."

"Git," Ron sighed, abandoning all hope of ever getting a reasonable suggestion out of the Slytherin.

The scene that met Ron when he returned to the common room was familiarly heart-warming. Harry, Hermione, Ginny and, to Ron's pleasant surprise, Dean, sat in the chairs by the fire, seemingly engulfed in deep conversation about something that only Dean was able to fake interest in. The redhead made his way over to his friends.

"Hello," he said, alerting them to his presence.

Harry immediately tensed up as he laid eyes on Ron, removing the arm he had draped around Ginny's shoulder.

"Hi," the dark haired boy said. "Where have you been?"

"Having dinner with Blaise."

"Oh," Harry said, a weird strain creeping into his voice, one that seemed to be constantly present whenever Ron brought Blaise up. "So, you two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately…"

Ron shrugged.

"I guess. Why?"

"Why?" Ginny interjected. "Well, it's just downright confusing, isn't it? First, you tell us you fancy him, then you date for a while, then you tell us all you're broken up, and now you're spending more time with him than ever. It's really a bit strange and one tends to get a bit suspicious, you know."

"We're just friends," Ron said, stressing every word. "I don't know how I'm ever going to get that into your thick skulls, but that's the way it is. Two gay boys actually can be friends without it turning into one giant shagging fest you know."

Harry seemed to tense up further at those words, while at the same time blushing furiously. Ginny just smiled knowingly.

"Whatever you say, brother," she said, as she leaned back against her boyfriend.

"So, did you actually want something, or did you interrupt us just to stress how much you're not sleeping with Blaise?" Hermione sighed. "I was in the middle of describing the intricate rune work that goes into the wards at Hogwarts…"

"Actually, I would like to have a word with you, Hermione. If the rest of you think you can spare her for a moment?" Ron intoned, a tad impatient.

Harry and Ginny both nodded vigorously, while Dean looked genuinely disappointed. Ron had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with missing the end of Hermione's rune-story, though, and he smiled to himself when he caught Hermione quickly running her hand over Dean's shoulder as she got up and followed the redhead to a more secluded corner of the common room.

"So…you and Dean, huh?" Ron said when they were out of earshot from the gang around the fire.

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms over her chest in an unambiguous that's-none-of-your-business gesture .

"If that's what you want to talk about, you're wasting your time," the bushy haired girl said with an irritated huff.

Ron sighed, smile fading from his face.

"No, that's not what I want to talk about. It's about…Harry," the redhead said, lowering his voice at the mentioning of Harry's name.

Hermione's expression instantly changed from one of annoyance to one of sympathy.

"What about him?"

"I don't know, I just…I guess I just have no idea what to do," he sighed, shoulders slumped.

"About what?"

"About bloody everything. I mean, I guess things are back to normal between us, except they're very much not normal, and I'm just…confused…and annoyed and happy, and nothing's easy anymore."

Ron sighed heavily again, waiting for Hermione's superior intellect, or female intuition, or whatever to make sense of his nonsense.

"I understand that it must be hard for you. I mean, part of you must be elated and relieved that things are okay between you and him again, but at the same time that means you two are constantly around each other, making it harder for you to get over your feelings for him. It's really a lose-lose-situation," Hermione explained thoughtfully.

Ron smiled widely at his friend.

"I really have no use for logic or emotional insight as long as I keep you around, Hermione."

"Well, I'm happy I, at least, can help with keeping you at the mental stage of a thirteen-year-old. I really wish I could help you with this whole Harry-business, though, Ron, but I think you just have to give it time. Sooner or later your feelings will swing back to friendly again."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, they did for me," Hermione said with a small shrug.

As per usual, when Hermione alluded to something concerning her feelings for him, Ron found himself struggling with the words, but she just smiled at him.

"I'm really glad they did, Ron. You're a good friend, you know."

"Yeah, well, you too," the Weasley said with a crooked grin.

"Well, if that's all sorted out, let's get back to our company, shall we?" she said, grabbing Ron by the arm and dragging him over to the fire again. "And, by the way, Dean asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him on Valentine's day," she confessed conversationally.

Before Ron could ask her more about it, they had made their way over to the others, and Hermione launched herself into her monologue about runes again as if nothing had happened. Ron could do nothing but smile.

"Remind me why we're here again?" Blaise sighed, letting his eyes wander around the heavily decorated bar with a look of contempt on his face.

Honeydukes was barely recognisable under all the pink and red banners, the floating paper hearts and the constantly falling heart-shaped confetti piling up like snow in the corners. Ron brushed some of it out of his hair and watched as it magically dissolved in his butterbeer, making the golden liquid turn pink.

"Because it's Hogsmeade weekend?" the redhead answered, taking a sip from his now pink beer.

It tasted faintly of strawberry and rose petals, a taste that, in Ron's opinion, had no business in a beer.

"This is not a Hogsmeade weekend. This is a nightmare," Blaise groaned, as a gnome dressed in a pink tutu scrambled across their table.

Even though the gnomes reminded Ron more of particularly lumpy potatoes dressed up in pink than the small ballerinas they probably were supposed to look like, he had to admit, he was kind of impressed that they had trained the little suckers to recite love poems from secret admirers rather than bite people's fingers off. Although most people seemed to be kind of put off by the squeaky recitals.

"If monogamy was such a great thing, I don't get why it needs all the advertisement. Wouldn't people just couple off on their own without teddy bears wearing tiny t-shirts that say "I wuv you" across their belly? If monogamy _is_ what we're supposed to be doing," the Slytherin scoffed, while distractedly sweeping a gnome off the table, ignoring its snapping after his finger with its sharp little teeth.

"So what, you don't believe in monogamy?" Ron asked his friend.

"Not really," Blaise shrugged. "It just doesn't seem to work."

"What do you mean, it doesn't work? People get together all the time."

"Yeah, and then they either break up, cheat on each other or live unhappily ever after. I don't know about you, but to me, that doesn't really sound like something you should spend your entire life trying to find."

"Not all relationships are like that, you know. My parents have been together since they were at Hogwarts, and they still love each other very much."

"Are you sure about that?" Blaise asked, with a mischievous grin.

The redhead just glared at him.

"Fine," Blaise relented. "Maybe some couples actually have their fairy tale ending. But they're far too few for me to take a chance at it."

"Sounds kind of…cynical. So what, you never want to find someone to fall madly in love with, settle down with and have a dog and two kids with?"

Blaise actually seemed to shiver at the thought.

"Merlin, no. That sounds even more nightmarish than this," he said, gesturing around the pub.

"Because sleeping around with random guys until you're too old for someone to want you is such a perfect life," Ron retorted with a roll of his eyes.

"I will never be too old for someone to want me, pet. And we can't all be hopeless romantics like you and your Gryffindorks. Speaking of which…" the chocolate coloured teen said, indicating something behind Ron with a tilt of his head.

Ron turned around and saw Harry and Ginny making their way over, hand in hand. He inwardly groaned. Sure, seeing them together didn't feel like taking a handful of daggers to the heart anymore, but that still didn't mean that it was enjoyable. Especially not on Valentine's Day. But Ron decided to play the brave soldier and put on a big smile as they approached.

"Hi! Fancy meeting you here," Ginny said as she reached the boys, all-knowing smirk on her lips as she looked between her brother and the Slytherin. Ron stifled a sigh, knowing very well what his sister thought.

"Yeah, well, who wouldn't want to drown in heart shaped confetti and be serenaded by gnomes in tutus who may or may not bite your finger off?" Blaise asked sarcastically.

"It _is_ a bit over the top," Ginny admitted while looking around.

"So, what are you two doing here?" Ron asked.

"We thought we might pop by for a butterbeer. We thought of having a coffee at Madam Puddifoots, but the floating golden cherubs were a bit too much," Ginny answered. "Mind if we sit down with you? Unless we're interrupting something?"

Ron was very much tempted to answer that yes, they _were_ interrupting something as he was not really in the mood to spend Valentine's day with his least favourite couple at the moment. But doing so would only convince Ginny that there actually was something going on between him and Blaise, and he did not want to give his sister the pleasure.

"No, you're not interrupting anything, have a seat," Ron answered, sharing a look with Blaise and receiving a surprised glance in return.

At least Harry looked as miserable as Ron felt. He had probably hoped to spend Valentine's alone with Ginny.

"So, what are you two doing, then?" Ginny asked, as she and Harry got their butterbeers.

"Just now, Blaise was, in honour of the day, pronouncing love and monogamy dead and buried," Ron explained, a smirk gracing his lips.

"Oh really?" Ginny said with an amused tone in her voice. "So, what, you don't believe in love? How avant-garde of you."

Blaise just rolled his eyes.

"It's not avant-anything, it's just how I see it. And I have lots of proof to support it."

"Do tell," the red-haired girl said, sounding genuinely interested.

And they were off. Blaise explained in his most blasé Slytherin-voice, how love and monogamy were just ritual constructions, created by people to fend off their loneliness and claim ownership to another person. Ginny, on the other hand, enthusiastically explained how love and attraction to another person was a force too great to ignore, and to claim it was just an illusion was a folly and something only a person who never truly had been in love would say.

As she continued to talk about how great being in love and finding the right person was, Ron came to realise she was talking about her and Harry. And it made him feel sick to his stomach, realising that not only did Ron want to have all the things she was talking about, but he wanted it with the same person as she did.

He glanced over at the object of his current train of thought (heck, almost all of his trains of thoughts these days). Harry was sitting by Ginny's side, seeming to not really listen to what she and Blaise were talking about, but glaring at the Slytherin none the less. Ron found himself wondering once again why the Slytherin seemed to annoy his bespectacled friend so much.

Then Harry glanced over at Ron, and their gazes locked onto each other in a way that made the redhead's breath hitch. There was something intense and unreadable in Harry's gaze, and when the smaller boy shifted his legs and made their knees brush under the table, Ron thought for a second that it might not have been unintentional, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Then the moment was broken by Ginny, looking to Harry for support in her argument with Blaise. The dark haired teen seemed to mentally compose himself, before turning to her with an "I'm sorry, what did you say? I wasn't paying attention", and Ron reverted to his old habit of cursing his sister and feeling guilty about it.

The redhead felt a nudge in his side and turned to look at Blaise, who raised an eyebrow in question. Ron just shook his head slightly in the universal sign for 'not now, entirely missing out on the intent with which Harry was observing the small exchange between the pair. It was not lost on the Slytherin, however.

When Ron turned away from Blaise, it was to find Ginny brushing confetti from Harry's hair and giving him a small kiss on the nose, at which he felt that enough was enough and rose abruptly.

"Not that it hasn't been immensely interesting to listen to you dissect love with Blaise, Ginny, but I think we need to get going now. Nice meeting you two, have a nice Valentine's."

Before anyone around the table could respond, Ron had grabbed Blaise by the hand and, more or less forcefully, dragged him from the table. The Slytherin managed a small wave at the couple they left behind, but received only confusion and a glare in return.

They all but stumbled out of the bar, Ron letting go of Blaise's hand with an annoyed huff.

"Merlin, did you see how she was just all over him? Why can't she keep her hands to herself for one second," the redhead spewed bitterly.

The Slytherin just sighed as he closed his robes against the chilly wind.

"Listen, pet, you know I'm on your side in all this, but don't you think you might be overreacting just a tad?"

Ron refused to acknowledge this by pretending not to hear him.

"I'm just saying that they're a couple and it's Valentine's Day and even though I don't necessarily get this whole being a couple-thing, I have deducted that people who claim ownership to one another also tend to manifest this physically by, say, holding hands or kissing. It's perfectly ordinary and…and you don't want to hear this right now, do you?"

"You think?" Ron snorted.

"Fine, Ginny is totally acting like a bitch in heat and should learn not to fondle her boyfriend so blatantly in public. She really ought to be thinking of the children, they might be scarred for life," Blaise continued, ignoring Ron's indignant and self-contradictory "Hey, that's my sister you're talking about". "I would say that counts as being a supportive friend, so, moving on to more pressing matters; a) what was that with you and Potter eye-fucking each other at the table and b) why is Potter trying to glare me to death?" the Slytherin inquired with a raised eyebrow.

The Gryffindor, being so used to his friend's antics that he no longer could muster neither annoyance nor embarrassment at what Blaise was saying, merely sighed.

"Firstly, you really need to do your homework regarding how to be a good friend better. Secondly, there was no 'eye-fucking', and thirdly, I have no idea why Harry seems to dislike you so much. Maybe he just doesn't like Slytherins? It's not like you can blame him, really."

"He sure seems to be able to store away a little extra contempt just for me, in that case. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was jealous, which brings me back to the eye-fucking."

"There was no eye-fucking!" Ron replied, loud enough to send a nearby group of fourth years into a fit of giggles. "And what would he be jealous of?"

"Of me. Or, more specifically, of me being close to you," Blaise said seriously.

Ron just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, right. Why would he be? He's got Ginny to be all in love and together with. He wouldn't care if you and I really were together. Except for the whole Slytherin-thing, that is."

"I wouldn't be so sure…" Blaise started.

"Yeah, well I am," Ron snapped. "Can we please leave now? I don't know if I can stand any more love right now," Ron said as yet another pair of students passed by, hand in hand, laughing at something only they understood.

Blaise just shrugged.

"Fine. Are you going to make a habit of ending all our Hogsmeade-visits with you storming off? In that case I might find myself another date for next time. Maybe even a real one, for a change."

There was a bit of an edge to Blaise's voice as he said that, and it actually made Ron feel slightly ashamed. He did have a tendency to rant about Harry, and he never really appreciated what Blaise had to say on the matter. Mainly because Blaise's advice didn't consist of "you're completely right, I really don't know what your very heterosexual male friend is doing with your sister instead of being with you". Instead, Blaise always tried to reason with him, even when Ron was in his most unreasonable mood.

Maybe the redhead had been a bit harsh on his Slytherin friend.

With that insight, Ron stopped and reached out to grab Blaise's arm, making the brown eyed boy face him.

"What now?", the Slytherin sighed. "Have you spotted another secret crush that you want to get away from, or are you just seeing Potter everywhere now?"

"No. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being a self-involved prick."

Before Blaise had any chance to reply, Ron bent down and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, smiling slightly as he remembered Blaise's similar display of affection after their last Hogsmeade visit. Maybe this was getting to be a habit as well.

Of course, Ginny and Harry had to choose that exact moment to walk by, Ginny "aaaw"-ing at the couple, Harry just looking like someone had punched him in the gut, an expression of hurt and resentment obvious on his face.

Ron decided to ignore them, turning his attention back to Blaise as he straightened out of the kiss.

"What was that for?", Blaise asked, incredulously.

"For putting up with me", Ron shrugged. "Come on, let's go", he added, draping his arm over Blaise's shoulder and steering him along.

If the redhead did notice Harry glaring at them over his shoulder as they made their way back to Hogwarts, he chose not to acknowledge it.

Ron very nearly knocked Harry over when he tried to exit their dormitory later that night. It was only at the very last moment that the dark haired boy managed to steady himself by grabbing hold of Ron's upper arms, bringing them so close together that it might have looked conspicuous had someone seen the scene from the outside. Harry's green eyes interlocked with Ron's blue and for a moment it seemed they both forgot how to breathe.

The redhead let his gaze drop for a moment to his friend's lips, and the moment of that disastrous kiss they shared suddenly slammed to the forefront of his memory, making him take a step back, breaking the contact between them.

Ron awkwardly shuffled back, blocking the path into the dormitory but being incapable of making his feet move to step aside, Harry staring down at his own shuffling feet. Finally, Ron managed to order his feet to move, as he all but stumbled back into their bedroom to allow Harry to pass.

The raven haired boy flashed him a small smile as he passed making Ron's legs transformation into jelly complete, leaving the tall boy astonished as to how he could still stand, all the while he shouted curses in his brain at the sudden regression his emotions had made concerning Harry. He wasn't supposed to turn into a gooey puddle from just one glance from the other boy. He was moving on, damn it!

"So…how was Hogsmeade?" Harry asked eventually, turning to face his friend. There was an edge to his voice that the redhead couldn't quite place.

"It was fine, I guess," he replied, grateful that his voice hadn't gone through the same metamorphosis as his legs, which were still not cooperating. "I mean, a bit too…Valentine for my tastes, but I guess it's nice if you're a couple like you and Ginny."

Ron had to bite his tongue not to groan at his own words. What in the world possessed him to bring up Ginny? Harry as well seemed to grow uncomfortable at the mention of his girlfriend.

"Well, I don't know if it's really my style," he said, laughing slightly. "But, er, you and Blaise, are you dating…for real, now?"

"No. We're just friends. I don't see why everyone constantly assumes were together," Ron replied.

Something sparked in Harry's eyes.

"You don't? Because it's pretty obvious to me. You spend all your time with him, and he's constantly touching you or looking at you or…"

"Whoa, Harry. Since when is he constantly touching me?"

"Since always! He's always dragging you off to somewhere to do God knows what. And that kiss!" Harry said, aggravation obvious in his voice.

"That kiss was nothing, and we're not doing anything! And even if we were, what's it to you?" Ron asked, temper rising along with Harry's.

"I'm your friend!" the raven haired boy all but bellowed.

"Well, I'm your friend and you don't see me getting all worked up because you're dating my bloody sister," Ron shouted back. _At least not in front of you,_ he added silently in his head.

"Yeah, well, why don't you?"

Harry looked almost defiant now.

"What?" was all Ron could reply, at a loss for words from what Harry's question was implying.

"Why don't you get all worked about me and Ginny? You're supposed to be in love with me, aren't you?"

"I…I can't believe you just said that."

"Why not? It's true, isn't it? Or have your feelings comfortably moved onto Blaise, now that I'm no longer available."

There was a slight hesitation in the dark haired boy's voice as he said the last part, but Ron didn't care anymore. He was furious.

"I can't believe the bloody nerve of you. Yes, I still very much love you, and yes, it hurts to see you with my sister, but there's nothing I can do about it, is there? You're dating my bloody sister. You've obviously made your choice, and yes, I do get 'all worked up about it', but I don't show it because it is not my place to show it."

Harry had fallen silent, staring pointedly at a spot on the floor, looking very much ashamed.

"I…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I…I should leave," he stuttered and started making his way towards the door. Ron grabbed him by the arm before he could reach it.

"Oh, no, you don't. You just can't throw stuff like that at me and then leave as if nothing happened," Ron growled.

Harry struggled against the taller boy's grip.

"Please don't touch me."

It almost sounded as if he was pleading, but the redhead ignored it.

"Or what?" he asked challengingly.

The next thing that happened startled all the rage right out of Ron. Harry turned around and pressed the taller boy up against the wall and with a small, keening noise at the back of his throat, he pressed his mouth against Ron's. For a moment the redhead's brain seemed to disconnect from his body, rendering him unable to respond. Then reality came crashing back to him and he realised that Harry Potter, the boy he loved, was actually kissing him. Closing his eyes, he started kissing back.

Harry's mouth was pleading, almost desperate, and when his tongue slid across Ron's bottom lip in a quest to gain access to Ron's mouth, the redhead thought he'd come undone. And suddenly it was there; the fireworks, the butterflies, the ground trembling beneath his feet. It made Ron gasp, which allowed Harry's tongue to brush against his, making him gasp yet again.

Almost by their own accord, Ron's hands entangled themselves in Harry's messy hair, tugging slightly, earning him a groan from the other boy, which had to be the most beautiful sound Ron had heard in his life.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over, and Harry was standing at a safe distance from the redhead, panting slightly with a panicked look on his face.

"I…I really shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry, I…I have to go."

Before Ron could react, Harry was scurrying towards the door, pausing only to send him a plea of "please don't tell anyone about this". And then he was gone, leaving a gawking Ron alone with his confusion and inability to decide if all this should make him thrilled or terrified


	17. Chapter 17

AN: Sorry. My life's been a mess. I hope there's still someone reading this, and thanks so much for the reviews on the previous chapter. They make me happy.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

17.

Ron knew he should feel lucky that it was a first year who had answered the door, but judging from the look of terror on her face as she scurried away to fulfil his request, he guessed he would have had a similar effect on an older Slytherin, had he wheezed out, "Get me Blaise, now!" with the same amount of madness mingled with fury as he had just now.

Blaise came sauntering down the corridor up to where Ron was standing, an eyebrow raised in question.

"A stuttering first year told me a very angry man wanted to see me, and I see now that she's right. Tell me, why are you a very angry man, pet?"

Blaise's nonchalance only served to infuriate Ron further, but he couldn't very well tell him what was going on in the middle of a corridor.

"Let's go somewhere else," he muttered, dragging the Slytherin away from the dungeon he resided in before he had any chance to protest.

He pushed him into an empty classroom, closing the door behind them and turned to face his friend.

"I just…can't fucking do this any more," Ron sighed, exasperatedly treading his hands through his hair.

"Do what?" Blaise queried.

"This... Harry!" he exclaimed, at a loss for words to explain the situation he was in.

"Oh. That old story. I thought we'd been through this before. You'll just have to wait. I know patience isn't your strong suit, but really…"

"No. It's not the same old story," Ron interrupted. "It's anything but. He's…he's just being a downright prick, that's what he is."

"And that is different from his usual way of being…how?" Blaise asked with a smirk.

"Don't! Just, don't, Blaise. I'm not in the mood, and you don't understand."

"Well, of course I don't understand since you failed to tell me anything other than that Harry is a prick, which really isn't very enlightening considering I already thought him one," the Slytherin explained, the tone of his voice reminding the redhead of someone trying to talk sense into a three year old.

Ron leaned against one of the benches, shoulders slumped.

"I...I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone, but I need to talk to someone about it and since he's not talking to me…" Ron trailed off.

"Potter's not talking to you?"

"No, not for about a week or so," the redhead said, anger suddenly gone from his voice and posture.

"Well, that's new. What brought this on?"

Ron nervously fidgeted with a loose thread on his robes, pointedly avoiding eye contact with his Slytherin friend.

"I…he kissed me," he mumbled.

"What?"

"He kissed me," Ron repeated, fleetingly meeting Blaise's gaze. "And now he won't talk to me, or acknowledge my existence."

"Oh," Blaise said, and then added, with a small smile: "So I was right then? He was jealous."

Ron just sighed heavily.

"Yes, Blaise, the point of all this is you were right."

The Slytherin at least had the decency to feel a bit ashamed at that.

"Wait, I'm sorry, let me try again: So, how come he kissed you?"

Ron told the whole story of that night, and how Harry had been acting towards him since, surprised that Blaise didn't interrupt him once with witty remarks or an ill-concealed attempt of trying to make the story all about him. When Ron finished he felt tears stinging in his eyes, and no matter how bad he wanted to not cry in front of the Slytherin, he couldn't keep a few of them from escaping.

What Blaise did next thoroughly surprised the redhead. The dark boy walked up to his crying friend, and gingerly wrapped his arms around him. What also surprised Ron was that it felt good, really good, and since leaning against the bench meant they were the same height, Ron took the opportunity to bury his face against Blaise's neck, as he allowed his long arms to come to rest around the Slytherin's waist.

They stayed like that for as long as it took for Ron's tears to dry out (which Ron thought was embarrassingly long), the redhead sniffling into Blaise's robes while the Slytherin just held him, occasionally stroking his back or his hair to soothe him. Finally, Ron straightened and ungraciously wiped his eyes and his nose with his sleeve. Blaise offered him a smile.

"Usually, I would mock you for your manners, but you're distraught so I'll give you a free pass."

Ron flashed him a puffy-eyed smile in return.

"That's very big of you. And I must say you're really good at that entire comforting-thing. Where'd you learn that?"

"Someone had to help my mother through her drunken cries about her late husbands," he shrugged.

Ron gave him a sympathetic look, which Blaise just waved off.

"You don't really get to feel pity for me until your tear tracks dry up," he commented.

"Yeah, well, thank you," Ron sniffled. "I guess I needed that."

"Any time, pet," Blaise said and tugged playfully at one of Ron's fiery locks. "Although, not too soon. This entire comforting-a-friend thing is exhausting."

The redhead rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I promise not to burden you with my troubles for at least a week."

"Atta boy. Now, let's go see what's for dinner. Food always seems to get you in a good mood."

Blaise took hold of Ron's hand and dragged him along towards the Great Hall, and Ron gladly let himself be led, taking comfort in the warmth of Blaise's hand in his own.

...

Ron and Blaise were kind of inseparable from there on. Ron found that he could tackle Harry's ignoring him a bit better when Blaise was around, and sometimes he could even enjoy the shadow of jealousy that drew across Harry's face whenever Ron and Blaise touched or laughed together. It showed that deep down, somewhere beneath the cold stares, Harry still cared.

Blaise didn't seem to mind Ron's company a bit. The redhead guessed he was just happy to have a friend, someone to listen to his rants and stories. From what Ron had pieced together, the Slytherin had always held other people's respect, but rarely had he had someone to actually confide in.

Of course the rumours of them being together were now running amok, but Ron couldn't get himself to care anymore. People could believe what they wanted, and, honestly, Ron would have believed they were together too, had he viewed them from the outside.

Not only were they almost always together, but, since that day in the classroom, the relationship had become much more physical. It wasn't like they were snogging or anything, but Ron had taken up the habit of not only using Blaise as an emotional support, but a physical as well. Whenever they had a boring class together, he would lean his head against the Slytherin's shoulder in a display of despair or to take a quick nap, and when they were studying outside in the pale spring sunlight, the redhead would rest his head in Blaise's lap or against his stomach. Blaise, on his side, seemed unable to keep his hands out of Ron's hair, constantly tugging and twirling the red strands between his fingers. Once in a while, if Ron was feeling extra down because of Harry, he would place a small kiss on the top of Ron's head as a sign of comfort.

Ron sometimes thought that he should be more weirded out by this change in their relationship, but he found that he didn't mind at all. He liked the physical contact, it was calming and comfortable, and he really needed that right now.

He would have thought that Blaise would have objected, seeing how this reinforced everyone's belief that they were a couple, but the Slytherin just shrugged, telling him that nowadays he got laid just because people thought it would be cool to steal the boyfriend of Ronald Weasley, one of the Golden Trio. And Blaise happily played along, telling them how he wasn't happy in his relationship with Ron and how he only felt complete when he was with them. Ron had scolded him for toying with other people's feelings like that, until Blaise had reminded him that these people were relishing in the knowledge that they were shagging who they thought was Ron's boyfriend. After that, the redhead just laughed along with the Slytherin's stories, only occasionally feeling ashamed of how Slytherin it was of him.

Hermione had tried to approach Ron to find out what was wrong, but he couldn't talk to her. Telling Blaise what had happened was one thing, but he still cared for Harry and didn't want to break his promise by telling Hermione. She would just try to talk some sense into Harry, and nothing good could ever come out of that. Still, he would spend time with Hermione, studying with her in the library or sitting with her and Dean at lunch, but it wasn't the same, and he missed his bushy haired friend almost as much as he missed Harry.

When Harry had given him the cold shoulder the day after they kissed, it had been as if someone had pulled Ron's heart out of his chest and ripped it to shreds in front of his eyes. The redhead had tried to talk to his friend several times since then, but Harry had either brushed him off, or ignored him completely. He had also started to get much more physical with Ginny whenever Ron was around, cuddling her or kissing her every chance he got. Ginny seemed rather surprised at the sudden display of affection, but gladly complied, taking joy in her boyfriend's newfound fondness of her. Ron really couldn't blame her.

He really couldn't muster up any jealousy either, for that matter. Now, whenever Ron saw his sister, he just felt guilty. Because, to add further to this mess, Ron hadn't kissed just any boy, he'd kissed his sister's boyfriend. And whenever Harry and Ginny kissed, or cuddled, or just held hands, he was reminded of that fact. He wondered if Harry was too, if all this physicality wasn't just a way to make Ron jealous, or make him hurt, or whatever, but also a way for Harry to try to make up for the fact that he had kissed someone who wasn't his girlfriend.

After Ron told Blaise what happened, he stopped trying to get Harry to talk to him. It only seemed to cause him even more heartbreak, and he really could do without that right now. Instead, he just tried to keep away from Harry as much as possible, avoiding the bespectacled teen as much as Harry avoided him. It was a weird sort of dance that inevitably drew attention to them, but whenever someone asked Ron what was going on, he just told them to ask Harry, and they never got back to the redhead after that. Ron was sure he didn't want to know what Harry was telling them.

...

The sun was beaming down on Ron where he laid, head propped up against Blaise's stomach, book in his hands which he really couldn't be bothered to read, light flitting through the thick foliage of the tree they were lying beneath. With all that had been going on, it really was the closest to happy he'd felt in quite some time. He sighed contentedly as he adjusted himself on the Slytherin's torso.

"Your tummy really does make the best pillow. It's so soft," the redhead said, closing his eyes against a ray of sun that had managed to find its way through the leaves.

"Are you calling me fat?" Blaise asked, pausing his fingers' travel through Ron's hair to give one of the red locks a sharp tug.

The Gryffindor swatted lazily in the general direction of Blaise's hand, but the other boy had already resumed combing his fingers through his hair, so Ron just really couldn't be bothered any more.

"I thought you said it would be good for you to study outside, that it would benefit your concentration to not be locked in some musty old library all day," Blaise commented, lifting his hand from Ron's head only to turn the page of his book.

"It's doing wonders," the redhead replied. "I've already read twice as much as I did yesterday."

"You only read three pages yesterday…"

"Yeah, well, it's not my fault they've made wizarding history so very boring."

"Yes, how can grand battles between mythological creatures ever be considered interesting?" the Slytherin sighed.

"My point exactly," Ron started, only to be interrupted by a sharp pain in his foot, which made him bolt into an upright position. "What the hell!"

The motion had him now staring down the wand of a very smug Bole.

"Hello, faggots," the chubby Slytherin sneered.

Behind him, Ron could feel Blaise slowly getting up into a sitting position, Viridian's wand following his every motion.

"Bole, Viridian," Blaise greeted, only the slightest bit of tension cutting through in his voice. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"We just saw you two fags getting all cosy over here, and we thought we should come over and say 'Hi'," Viridian answered.

"Yeah, well, nice to see you, now please get the fuck out of my sight," Ron said between clenched teeth.

Bole increased his pressure on Ron's foot, making the redhead wince slightly.

"Tell me, poofter, are you the woman or the man in this relationship?" Bole asked, his face mere centimetres away from Ron's.

Before Ron could come up with a sufficiently scathing answer, he heard a voice from somewhere behind him.

"I think it would be best if you two just backed off right about now."

The redhead didn't have to turn to recognise the voice of his sister, as threatening as it did sound right now. The two Slytherins slowly backed away, and as soon as Bole moved away from his foot, Ron dove for his wand.

"Well, isn't it just like Potter and his girl to sweep in and save the day," Viridian spat. "Next time you won't be so lucky, faggots."

And with that, they were off. Ron turned around, facing Ginny and Harry, both slowly lowering their wands while still keeping their eyes trained at the disappearing shapes of the two Slytherins, not turning to the couple on the ground until they were out of sight.

"Are you two alright?" the youngest Weasley asked.

"Just chipper," Blaise answered bitterly as he got off the ground.

Ron tried to follow suit, but the pain in his foot had him falling over, which made Harry dart to catch him, only to be beaten to it by Blaise, who quickly slung his arm around the redhead's shoulders.

"You alright there, pet?" he asked, as he helped Ron get steady.

Harry seemed to visibly flinch at the pet name, sending Blaise a nasty glare, which turned hurt as he briefly met Ron's gaze before those green eyes were directed firmly at the ground.

"I'm fine," the redhead answered. "Bole is not really any more enjoyable on your foot than he is in general, though."

"You really ought to tell your Head of House about those two, Zabini. Who knows what else they can come up with," Ginny said, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to do that," the Slytherin said lightly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I should return the war hero here to his dorm."

As Ron limped off, arm securely around Blaise's shoulders, he turned once and looked back towards Harry. The dark haired boy was once again pointedly ignoring him.

...

The next time Ron saw Ginny and Harry, they were descending the stairs from the boys' dormitory, clothes rumpled and hair tousled. The small grin the couple shared felt like a stab to Ron's heart, their intertwined fingers like a big mockery to all Ron felt.

He knew he shouldn't feel this way, knew he shouldn't be surprised really, but still, it hurt. And deep inside the redhead, something else flared, fanned on by his jealousy and stuffed away agony. Anger. He felt a sudden wave of white hot anger washing over him, and it took all he had for him not to lash out at Harry at that moment.

How could he do this? How could he look so smug, so content, kissing Ginny softly on the cheek, when he knew how Ron felt? When he knew that the same lips he used to kiss Ginny, he had used to kiss Ron just a few weeks ago? How could he seem so lacking of remorse or shame, how could he just let his gaze slide over Ron with that small, self-content grin still ghosting over his lips?

Seamus, with his usual flair, chose this moment for a catcall, earning a blush from the couple. Torn between punching the Irish boy in the face or fleeing the scene, Ron chose the latter, running away blindly, but with determined feet that compensated for the chaos in his brain.

He had left Blaise in the library earlier, and this was where his legs were carrying him now. He found the dark haired Slytherin sitting at the same table he left him at, and promptly proceeded to drag the baffled boy out of there.

"Not that it's not immensely fun being forcefully dragged along by an obviously enraged ginger, but I still have to ask: where are we going?"

Ron didn't answer, he just dragged Blaise into an empty classroom and closed the door behind them.

"You know, it's really weird that there's always an unlocked classroom for you to drag me into, don't you think? You'd think the teachers would be more careful, especially since they're so very adamant that we shouldn't be out of bed at night and such. This school is really going downhill, I tell you. One little war and discipline is out the window," the Slytherin mused.

"Will you just, please, shut up," Ron said, before pinning Blaise to the wall and claiming his lips.

If the other boy was surprised by the redhead's actions, he didn't let it show. Instead he responded to Ron's kiss in earnest, expertly sliding his tongue along the taller boy's bottom lip to gain access to his mouth. Ron complied willingly, tugging at Blaise's shirt to gain access to the smooth, warm skin underneath. Blaise replied with snaking one arm across Ron's waist, pulling them closer together, while the other hand tugged at Ron's red locks.

There wasn't really any tenderness between them, more of a raw passion, and, from Ron's side, something akin to desperation. It wasn't that he didn't want Blaise, Merlin knows he did, but somewhere along the edges of his lust-muddled mind, Harry was lurking, that self-content smile he had while descending the stairs with Ginny plastered across his face. The image only made Ron more determined to push Harry, and all the confusion that came with him, into a deep pit somewhere in his subconsciousness. He experimentally sucked Blaise's bottom lip into his mouth, and earned a groan in return, making him smile slightly.

But Blaise quickly turned the tables, manoeuvring them both so that Ron was now the one pinned to the wall, while the Slytherin latched his lips onto Ron's neck, kissing and nipping and sucking in a way that made the redhead slightly dizzy. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in the spot where his shoulder met his neck, and stopped what he was doing to look down at a grinning Blaise Zabini.

"You bit me!" he exclaimed, slightly out of breath.

"Yes, I did. And you liked it," the dark haired boy stated simply.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Ron hooked his hand around Blaise´s neck and pulled him in, crashing their lips together once more, relishing the taste of the other boy's tongue on his own, realising it banished all thoughts of Harry to a corner of his brain he could almost ignore completely. Somehow Blaise had managed to unbutton Ron's shirt, and the feeling of warm fingers dancing across his freckled skin made him breathless. His fingers quickly moved to remove Blaise's shirt entirely, and soon skin was touching skin as Ron pulled the other boy flush against him, clutching onto Blaise's hips as their tongues battled each other. Heavy breathing filled the empty classroom, and Ron bit down lightly on Blaise's earlobe, causing him to hiss. The redhead chuckled slightly as he kissed his way back to the Slytherin's mouth, but before his lips could reconnect with Blaise's, the other boy stopped him, leaning back slightly.

"What?" Ron asked.

Blaise's dark eyes stared searchingly into Ron's blue, their laboured breaths mingling between them.

"I can't believe I'm going to ask this, but: are you sure you want this?"

The Gryffindor was kind of taken aback by the question.

"Yes! I think so… I don't know," he confessed, shoulders slumping slightly.

Blaise started to pull away, but Ron's firm grip on his hips kept him in place.

"Please. I need this. I need you. This…you…it's making it better."

The dark boy just sighed, leaning his forehead against Ron's.

"I guess this is all about Potter, somehow. But I'm not even going to ask, because you, my friend, have never looked sexier, and who am I to turn down a sexy man in need?"

He leaned in to capture Ron's lips again. The kissing was slower this time, less insistent and more…comforting, maybe. Ron released his grip on Blaise's hips and let them come to rest against the small of his back, while Blaise's fingers traced their way over Ron's cheek, hair, neck and back again.

When they both had to come up for air, Ron breathed a small "Thank you". Blaise just smirked.

"Hey. That's what friends are for."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: So, I don't really have an excuse, other than I've been working and moving to a new town and stuff, and I can't really give any promises as to when the next update will be. I do, however, want to thank everyone who reviewed, or favourited, or put this story on alert. It makes me very happy to see that people seem to appreciate what I do.

This chapter was a pain to write, and, thus, is a bit short. I hope you'll enjoy it anyway.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Warnings: Some foul language.

18.

So, this is what it's like being a regular teenager, Ron thought to himself. It kind of sucked.

He really couldn't pinpoint exactly when his life had turned into one of those cheesy romance novels his mother liked to read, but nonetheless it now bore an uncanny resemblance to them. And he didn't like it one bit.

There was the friend who really wasn't a friend anymore but whom he still had feelings for, feelings that were more intense than they should be, considering that all Harry seemed to spare for Ron these days was contempt. Then there was the friend that maybe was somewhat more than a friend, considering he nowadays found himself knowing the insides of Blaise's mouth almost as good as his own.

He never really intended for it to happen, but Blaise was just so nice, and good-looking, and he was there, and Merlin, could that boy kiss. And the Slytherin never seemed to mind. In fact, he was sometimes the instigator of their snogging sessions, and Ron didn't really want it to stop, because it felt good, damn it, and so very few things in his life felt good anymore. Plus he couldn't deny he felt a certain attraction towards the other boy, an attraction he sometimes feared, sometimes hoped, would take things further than just kissing.

So here he was, the centre of this messed up love triangle where one person, the person he loved, didn't want anything to do with him, and the other person, the person he lusted after, sure as hell wanted something to do with him, but where Ron never really could shake the feeling of wrongness.

These facts sifted through Ron's mind as he left yet another "started out just friendly, ended up overly friendly" meeting with Blaise, while he distractedly re-buttoned his shirt and simultaneously tried to flatten his mussed hair. How exactly did normal teenagers cope with all of this?

His thoughts stopped dead in their tracks as the unmistakable sound of sobbing reached his ears, coming from an empty classroom. _Blaise is right_, Ron thought as he approached the classroom. _They really should take more care locking these things at night_.

For a moment he debated whether or not he should just leave. The person crying probably wanted to be left alone. But the sobs were so heart wrenching that the redhead couldn't stop himself from curiously peeking inside, not really sure whether he should be surprised or not when he saw Harry slumped over one of the desks, face buried in his arms as his small frame shook with crying.

Ron once again debated leaving, seeing how he was probably the last person Harry wanted to be comforted by at the moment. But seeing the dark haired boy so distressed made Ron's heart ache, because no matter what had transpired between them, Harry was still his friend, and Ron cared about him more than he really wanted to admit. So he took a hesitant step into the classroom, and let out an equally hesitant,

"Harry?"

The other boy jerked his head up, an expression of relief and then annoyance gracing his features as he realised who had entered.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"I…I heard you, from outside," Ron answered, gesturing feebly towards the door. "Harry…are you alright?"

For a moment the bespectacled teen just sat there, measuring his former friend with his gaze.

"No," he finally answered, defeated, as if he couldn't muster up the energy for lies or anger. "No, I'm not."

Ron took another few, hesitant steps in Harry's direction.

"Look, I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but maybe you can ignore the fact that you hate me and I'll ignore…everything that's happened and I'll just be a concerned friend right now, alright? And then we can just go back to normal, or un-normal, or whatever, after this."

"I don't…alright," Harry sighed.

Ron pulled up a chair and sat himself down across Harry's desk. The raven haired boy's red rimmed eyes and tear streaked cheeks made everything that happened between them over the last couple of weeks seem unimportant. It actually made Ron kind of sad that he hadn't been at Harry's side for him to confide in. What was he doing here, alone in an empty classroom anyway? Why wasn't he with Ginny, or Hermione? It made the redhead feel very worried about his friend.

"So…erm…what's the matter?" Ron asked, realising that a few weeks of estrangement hadn't exactly made it easier to talk to Harry about these kinds of things.

The other boy suddenly became very engulfed in a loose thread at the hem of his robes, seemingly contemplating whether he should answer Ron's question or not.

"Look, I…I don't know if this is really a good idea. It's really…it's nothing," he finally replied.

"It doesn't exactly seem like nothing," the redhead prodded on, carefully.

He knew that he should be mad at Harry for the way he had treated him lately, but right now he was just happy about the tentative bond that seemed to be slowly reforming between them, and worried about how his friend was doing.

Suddenly Harry looked up, meeting Ron's gaze straight on.

"It's just…everything is so wrong and weird, and everyone is acting like nothing really happened, and I can't, I just can't, and I sometimes wish that…"

The bespectacled teen fell silent, once again directing his full attention to that loose thread.

Ron gathered Harry was talking about the war, for he too had had that weird feeling that everyone around them just preferred to pretend it never happened. He even did it himself at times, because it was so much easier to go on living if you didn't dwell on those who did not.

"You sometimes wish what, Harry?" Ron asked softly.

Harry pursed his lips, picking away at the thread with fervour for what seemed like minutes, before he once again met the redhead's gaze and opened his mouth to answer.

And in the Harlequin novel that was now the life of Ron Weasley, Blaise chose this exact moment to peek his head through the door.

"I thought I heard your voice. You left your tie at…oh, hello Potter, fancy meeting you here."

Ron's red and gold tie dangling from the Slytherin's finger could not have seemed more conspicuous, and he suddenly became very aware of his dishevelled looking hair and the fact that he had not fully buttoned his shirt. Harry noticed as well, and unfortunately seemed to draw some very correct conclusions about what had been going on between Ron and Blaise.

The raven-haired teen's features suddenly hardened, and something akin to anger flared in his eyes.

Unfortunately, Blaise decided to make matters worse by speaking.

"Been slipping in here to have a good cry, Potter?" he said, having noticed Harry's red-rimmed eyes. "Sometimes the weight of the world can get a bit much, can't it, Golden Boy?"

"Blaise…," Ron said warningly, but to no avail. Harry was now back to full-fledged contempt.

"That's none of your business, faggot," he bit back.

"Harry," the redhead said in the same kind of warning tone he'd just directed at Blaise.

"Shut up, Ron! You know, what you two poofters do in private is your business, but I'd prefer not to have it paraded in front of me."

Harry seemed a bit taken aback by his own words, and when he finally faced Ron, there was a slightly alarmed and almost apologetic look on his face. Ron would have nothing of it, though.

"Fuck you, Harry, just…fuck you," was all he could coherently form in his state of rage, as he strode out of the classroom. "And fuck you too, Blaise," he told the Slytherin in passing.

He was walking blindly; white, cold rage fuelling his every step. How dare the bigoted arsehole, how dare he? After everything he'd thrown at Ron, this was the last straw. Harry Potter was to be purged from his system, if it so took him a bloody lifetime to do it.

He took out his wand, directing it at paintings and armours along the way, muttering spells to make them tear or explode in clanking piles, scaring the living daylights out of a bunch of first years as they passed him by. As he reached the stairs he let out a frustrated howl, followed by a string of muttered expletives that would have made his mother ground him until his retirement.

"What's the matter, poofter? Had a lover's quarrel with the boyfriend?" he heard a voice drawl behind him.

He turned around only to find himself face to face with Bole and Viridian.

"That's really clever and all, but I'm really not in the mood for this right now, so if you would kindly just back the fuck off, nobody needs to get hurt tonight, alright?"

"Like you could take us," Viridian piped up.

Ron laughed humourlessly.

"I've taken on Voldemort and lived; I think I can handle a couple of pea-brained Slytherin buffoons."

This actually seemed to take the Slytherins aback a bit, long enough for Ron to summon both their wands.

"These things…" he said, waving the pieces of wood in their direction. "…Are really a bit too dangerous for to idiots like yourself to be carrying around, don't you think? Let's see what we can do about that."

He directed his own wand at the two wands in his hands, muttering a spell and savoured the cracking sound of wood splinting. He handed back the two wands, now reduced to nothing more than a pile of toothpicks held together by a piece of string, sighing with relief.

"There, all better. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be. See you around"

Ron turned and made for the stairs, all too wrapped up in his own anger to hear the running steps behind him. He felt two hands being shoved hard against his back, and he had really no chance to find his balance before he found himself tumbling down the stairs.

All he could register was pain throughout his entire body as he hit his head against the floor with a crack that sounded sickening even to his own ringing ears.

As he slowly lost hold of his consciousness, he could hear a worried and very familiar voice nearby.

"Ron? Ron? Can you hear me? Oh, please, Ron, don't do this. Ron? Ron!"

And then there was nothing.


End file.
